


Are You Sure?

by Applesandbannas747



Series: Sure as Sweets [1]
Category: Fence (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 00:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 54,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21026990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesandbannas747/pseuds/Applesandbannas747
Summary: Nick only meant to tease Seiji a little over the diary he's been scribbling in all night but the conversation leads them down an interesting path that ends in an even more interesting proposition.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I simultaneously have so much to say in my defense and nothing to say for myself so i will just say this:  
SMOOCH FEST 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

Nick felt drunk with giddiness. They’d won their first match and it had been _glorious._ He couldn’t stop smiling. He really should; his face hurt something fierce from all the grinning. But it wouldn’t stay away. He was too pumped up and it couldn’t be contained. Which was…not ideal for his roommate. He caught a glare from Seiji but all he could do was shrug.

“Sorry,” he said. “Extra energy. I can’t settle down.” He was in such a good mood after their win—and the celebratory trip to a shitty 24/7 breakfast joint after—he was even feeling generous towards Seiji. The warm feelings were not returned, evidently. Seiji, Nick could tell, was pretty damn done with him. It was weird, because Seiji hadn’t even seemed pleased when they’d won. Not excited or happy or _anything._ He’d just nodded like he’d known they’d win. He was probably so used to winning he didn’t know how to be happy about it anymore. Except, maybe—

“Hey,” Nick said. Seiji gave an exhausted sigh and turned to acknowledge Nick’s call. “Would beating Jesse make you happy?”

“I—what?”

“Jesse. Your stupid nemesis or whatever,” _for now, anyway._ “Beating him would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.” But would he show it? Nick couldn’t imagine Seiji hyped over anything. “Why?”

“I just wondered what it would take to make you happy is all.”

“And why is that? Do you intend to try?”

Nick snorted. “No way in hell. But you looked…ambivalent tonight. At _best._ And we won!”

“And now I’ll be getting no sleep because you won’t stop bouncing around the room.”

“You’re not even in pajamas,” Nick protested. Seiji was just sitting on his bed, one leg hanging off and the other crossed under him, a journal balanced on his knee, in leisurewear but _not_ pajamies. “And it’s not even seven.”

“You should go frolic about the grounds. Get your energy out. Perhaps you could even convince one of your little friends to go with you.”

“I’m not a dog, you know,” Nick said flatly, pushing his chair across the floor, scraping closer to Seiji with a frown.

“Really? You could have fooled me,” Seiji only glanced up from his writing very briefly, returning to it and muttering something about an “overeager puppy.”

“You just don’t know what normal people are like.”

“Hmm.” He was _really_ engrossed in that journal. Nick watched him, bent over it with concentration as he scribbled away. It was well taken care of but it clearly had some miles on it. Well-loved. Personal and important to Seiji, Nick could tell in the care he took with it and in the meticulously maintained but still heavily thumbed through pages. Almost like…

Intrigued, Nick stood. Seiji took no notice. After all, Nick had been doing this since they’d gotten back to the dorms. Up and down and up again. Energy to burn. But now he stalked carefully, slowly, quietly—creeping ever nearer to Seiji. Trying to catch a glimpse at the contents of that journal.

_Snap!_

The book was abruptly and loudly shut and Seiji glared up at Nick from his bed, hand planted over the journal with a protectiveness Nick had never seen him exhibit for any of his possessions before. Maybe he hadn’t been able to see in its pages, but he grinned, triumphant.

“So it _is_ a diary!” He crowed in delight. Seiji’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s a journal.”

“Full of your personal thoughts and feelings?” Did Seiji _have_ feelings to even write about? Whatever. “Sounds like a diary to me, man.”

“It is not. It’s for detailed recollections.”

“Of what?”

“None of your business.”

“Well, you sure reacted strongly enough for it to be _really_ embarrassing,” Nick teased, but Seiji divulged no more. “Oh my god,” Nick said suddenly, making Seiji flinch at his volume. He lowered his voice. “Oh my god. It’s not, like, _naughty_, is it?” He asked.

“Absolutely not,” Seiji said, insistent and repulsed and clutching the diary tighter. Nick didn’t really think it was anything particularly _naughty_, but it was interesting to watch Seiji’s reactions to the suggestion. So he kept pushing.

“It is, isn’t it? You dirty hound, when’d you ever have time to get it on? Or are they fantasies? That would make more sense, actually.”

“And what does that mean?” Seiji asked with a glower. _Interesting._

“I just can’t imagine you’d find anyone willing to do naughty things with you.”

“I—,” Seiji seemed genuinely lost for words, but he didn’t look offended. Just perplexed. “Are you blind?”

“Holy shit,” Nick choked on a laugh. “You really think you’re that hot?”

“Actually, yes. I’m aware of my status as an extremely eligible and desirable bachelor—,”

“What are you, forty? Teenagers don’t talk in that Jane Austen-type way.”

“Surely you’ve noticed that I’ve got a fairly impressive following? That I’m a highly skilled fencer? That I’m not unattractive by any standards? I couldn’t throw a rock without hitting someone who’d gladly—,” he cut off and glared fierce again. “But that’s _not_ what I was writing about.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. You were just defending your honor as a sex god because you’re such a cocky bastard and not as a way to cover for your self-insert fanfiction with Harry Styles.”

“Harry Styles? Really, you think _he’s_ my type?”

“Woah, got a problem with Harry? He’s cool and you know it.”

“Are you sure _you_ aren’t the one with the self-insert fanfiction? You seem rather fond of Harry Styles.”

“We’re talking about your sexual fantasies,” Nick reminded, “not mine.”

“Are we? Why would we be talking about that?”

“Because you won’t show me your diary and so I’m forced to assume you’ve got nothing but sexy stuff in there.”

“I do _not._ But it’s private and I have no obligation or reason to show it to you.”

“So if it’s not fanfiction and you’ve got your pick of beaus, is it recollections of that? Like the diary in _Mamma Mia!_?”

“I truly do not understand your mind. And I sincerely do not want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” Nick laughed, then made a joking attempt for the diary. He got smacked with it instead and shook out his hand from the sting. “I still say there’s no way anyone’s ever been willing to kiss you.”

“Then you’d be quite surprised by my romantic history,” Seiji said, and the only reason Nick believed it was because Seiji looked mortified to have said it. Like it had slipped out without his permission.

“Wait, for real? Are you secretly a heartbreaker?” Nick raked over Seiji with his eyes, a new appreciation in his gaze. He wouldn’t have thought Seiji had it in him. “It’s always the ones you least expect.”

“Now will you leave me alone? I’ve got things to do while my mind’s still fresh.”

The fuck did that mean? Whatever, didn’t matter.

“Do you have more or less experience than Aiden, do you think?”

“I don’t see that it’s any of your business,” Seiji was getting terse. Well, no. He’d been terse from the beginning. He was losing all patience for Nick now.

“Are you good at it?”

“Am I…_good_ at it? At what? Kissing?”

“Yeah,” Nick shrugged. “Or other things.”

“I’m good at everything I do.”

“Sure you are,” Nick rolled his eyes. “I bet you’re really terrible but have your head too far up your own ass to realize.”

“Do you?” Seiji asked, setting his diary aside, though his hand still lingered on the cover. He was ready to snap, Nick could tell. He wondered what _snapping_ would look like on Seiji.

“Yeah, I do. You’re probably the worst kisser, stiff and dead-lipped and all that.”

“Would you like to find out?” Seiji asked. It was a low and dangerous thing, that question. Like a string pulled too taut. One more flick and _snap._ “See for yourself?”

“Sure,” Nick said with a smirk, calling the bluff. “Okay. Show me what a damned good kisser you are.”

Seiji launched from his bed, caught Nick’s face in his hands, and before Nick could really understand what was happening, warm lips were on his. And—_Holy. Fucking. Shit balls. _He was kissing Seiji Katayama. No, that wasn’t right. _He_ wasn’t doing much of anything. Seiji Katayama was kissing him, then. And it was—fuck, but it was good.

Seiji legitimately seemed to know what he was doing and he slipped into Nick’s mouth with practiced ease, hands playing in his hair, or else roaming his neck and face. It was…Unexpected. _Very_ unexpected. But Nick finally pulled his shit together and got into the rhythm of it. Seiji set the pace and he pushed so hard against Nick that he thought they’d both tumble to the ground—the duck curtain wasn’t exactly a wall that would catch him when his balance lost the battle against Seiji’s insistent weight pushing him backwards.

But it didn’t come to that. Seiji pulled away, withdrawing his weight and his warmth and his hands and his devastating lips. _Oh holy fuck._ They just stood there for a bit, heaving heavy breaths and staring. Sizing each other up.

“Huh,” Nick said, finally catching his breath. And collecting enough of his mind to speak with his newly collected breath. “That was pretty good. But it could be better.”

“What do you mean,” Seiji asked slowly, dangerously, “_better?_”

Nick could have laughed for how offended Seiji was at the suggestion that anything about him could be made better.

“Can I just—can I try something?” Nick asked. “I mean, since we’re both right here and we already kissed and all?”

Seiji’s face was a mix of irritation and incredulity. But there was also some curiosity—_there,_ in the tiny tilt of his head and _there_—in the tug at his mouth and the twitch of an eye and _there_—in eyebrow slowly rising up higher and higher.

“Very well,” Seiji said once the seconds had bled almost to a whole minute. Nick took a hesitant step towards Seiji, though his posture was anything but inviting. He stood ramrod straight with arms crossed and eyes as watchful and brimmed with warning as a mountain lion’s.

“Um,” Nick said. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

He said that, but his hands hovered awkwardly about Seiji’s body. He wasn’t exactly an expert. He didn’t really have any idea what he was doing. But he knew what he wanted. _Fuck it._ He shoved away his embarrassment and just fucking grabbed Seiji, pulled him close, and smashed their mouths together again.

This time, he didn’t let Seiji set the pace. This time, he set the tempo, kisses alternating between relatively chaste and a little deeper, a little harder. Seiji’s mouth was parted expectantly against his, but he didn’t take it. Not just yet. He teased a bit of Seiji’s lip between his teeth, took his time sucking on it, and was rewarded with a shuddering sort of gasp.

And his hands were an unstoppable flurry—he couldn’t keep still at the best of times. And tonight he was pumped up from the match, from _winning_ the match, and from this too. The kissing. It was new and exciting and it felt good. And he wanted even more of the elation coursing through his veins. So his hands were far from stationary. He palmed at a hip, pulled at silky hair from the roots, slid fingers down biceps, thumbed across a sensitive, exposed throat, and, probably against his better judgment, found the curve of ass through the expensive sweatpants Seiji had changed into an hour and a half ago. Seiji’s body gave an involuntary jolt forward, farther into Nick. But this time it wasn’t like he was _pushing_ Nick. It was more like he was _falling_ into Nick. Nick liked that. A lot.

Since no signs of displeasure or a desire to stop came from Seiji, Nick went ahead and left his hand cupping Seiji’s butt—it was loads better than any of his boring pants had ever led Nick to believe. And, finally, he dove fully into Seiji’s mouth, giving him the deep and intense kisses he’d been asking for since the start. And Seiji let out a sound Nick didn’t know could come from a real person. Least of all Seiji. And because of _his_ kisses, _his_ hands.

Nick kissed Seiji with vigor and the reactions he was getting out of Seiji were dangerous. Because it was only a matter of time before he got carried away.

Nick slid his hand from Seiji’s ass down to the back of his thigh, pulled it against him as he slipped one of his legs between Seiji’s. And Nick could tell right away by the spasm followed by a sudden stillness that, yep, he’d gone too far. Gotten carried away.

Giving Seiji back possession of his left leg, Nick readjusted his stance to be less invasive. Seiji once again withdrew his mouth from Nick’s but he didn’t slip out of Nick’s hold or retract his arms from their place on Nick’s shoulders. Nick considered saying sorry but Seiji didn’t seem upset, exactly. Just startled and maybe somewhat dazed. And it was all so ridiculous that Nick had to chuckle—just a little.

“Cool, thanks for that,” Nick said after he’d finished laughing. Seiji seemed confused. “Now I know what I like.”

“…Know what you like?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know before. I’ve never actually kissed anyone. Before this, obviously. So, like. Yeah. Cool.”

“You hadn’t kissed anyone and yet you were trying to make fun of me for the same thing—which—,”

“Wasn’t true,” Nick finished, rolling his eyes again. “I know. You proved me wrong. Anyway, it’s only embarrassing if you’re embarrassed by it, right? And it sure riled _you_ up, so I was just having fun.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I guess I am. But hey, it was good. Like I said, now I know what I like. I like this.”

A second of silence in which Seiji considered him thoughtfully. “Are you sure?” He finally asked.

“What?”

“Do you _actually_ like this?”

Nick couldn’t believe Seiji was going to try and question the way he liked kissing. So he did the reasonable thing and grabbed Seiji to him again, spinning them around and planting himself on the bed, pulling Seiji along with him.

“Nic—,” Nick caught the rest of his name in his mouth, hands helping to untangle Seiji’s legs and situate them around him in a more comfortable way. Again, Seiji responded favorably to his touch and—

“Yep,” Nick declared, pulling his mouth from Seiji’s. “I’m sure.”

“I didn’t mean—I only meant to ask if you’re confident that you like kissing this way, or do you think that, perhaps, you just enjoy kissing _me_ like this?”

“Are you implying that I—like you?”

“Certainly not.” Seiji gave a huff of a laugh and Nick was glad to see that he found the idea as absurd and impossible as it rightly was. “I was merely making a comment based on your feelings of inferiority to me.”

“You’re not better than me,” Nick growled, and it was strange to be glaring at someone you still held on your lap. Seiji peered down his nose at Nick, snide and insufferable.

“And yet you’re so obsessed with besting me. Which is why I wondered if your preference for _this_ has more to do with your desire to dominate me specifically than with your broader preferences in these things.”

“That’s—huh.” It was actually…it might be…it was possible. Would it be nearly so hot to make someone else shiver and sigh as it was when it was Seiji? As a test, Nick tried to imagine it. The thought made him uncomfortable with any of his friends—but he didn’t want to kiss Bobby or Eugene or Kally in _any_ way, so that wasn’t exactly proof. “I don’t know.”

“I thought that might be the case. Good luck sorting that out,” and he started to climb off of Nick.

Nick caught him, holding him firmly in place by the middle.

“Why the rush?” Nick was surprised at his words, even more surprised by the proposition in the back of his head, springing forth. There was no way he was actually going to voice it, was there? “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

“What?” Seiji was sneering down at him again, unimpressed.

“I mean, look, I know you could have your pick of guys, but—you’ve got to be single right now despite that, don’t you?”

“Why do I _have_ to be single?”

“Fuck, why are you getting offended? I just don’t think you’re the type to cheat.” Nick watched Seiji’s face change from offense to embarrassment. “If you were in a committed relationship, you wouldn’t have kissed me at all, no matter what you had to prove.”

“Of course not,” Seiji muttered. His face looked ever so slightly flushed.

“And I’m not seeing anyone. And…_this_ feels nice. What if we just…kept doing it?”

“Are you suggesting we be friends with benefits?”

“Enemies with benefits. But yeah.”

“I can see why you’d be interested in such an arrangement—,” Nick snorted but Seiji didn’t even pause. “However, I fail to see what I’d be getting from it.”

“Ouch,” Nick pantomimed an exaggerated flinch. “But you can’t fool me. You like it too,” and here Nick ducked a hand up Seiji’s shirt and trailed fingers across naked skin, his point proven when Seiji exhaled a pleased sigh.

“That’s hardly—hardly grounds—for—grounds for—_stop_ _that,_” Seiji caught Nick’s hand through the fabric of his shirt, holding it still against his chest where it had previously _not_ been still at all. “It’s hardly grounds for entering into any sort of relationship.”

“Are you sure?” Nick grinned, recognizing an intriguingly flustered quality in Seiji’s face that he desperately wanted to explore more. “It would be so convenient. You don’t have to play nice with anyone to get the good parts.” Two spots of color appeared high on Seiji’s cheeks and Nick knew he’d hit a nerve. “You can be as mean and cocky and neglectful as you want and I won’t care. Okay, that’s a lie, but we both know we’ll piss each other off no matter what. And I’d still kiss you, is the point. No matter how terrible you are. And you don’t have to worry about rumors since we’re roommates. We won’t get caught. And it’s not like I want anyone thinking I’m in love with you or something so you know I won’t go telling people. It’s a perfect arrangement. Admit it.”

“Fine,” Seiji’s will seemed to deflate in perfect timing with his body as he let himself collapse against Nick.

“Really?” Nick hadn’t expected Seiji to agree. He was still surprised he’d even asked for it at all.

“Stop looking so dumb or I’ll change my mind.”

Nick pulled Seiji’s face down into a kiss, smiling to himself because this really was the perfect arrangement. Every time Seiji said something mean, Nick could just kiss him to shut him up. Could make him come apart, little by little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit guueeessss what you guys! [Thestarminstrel](https://thestarminstrel.tumblr.com/) drew [this amazing depiction](https://thestarminstrel.tumblr.com/post/620385448896921600/yeah-i-do-youre-probably-the-worst-kisser) of Nick and Seiji's first kiss and trust me when I say you need to see it because it's g l o r i o u s


	2. Chapter 2

Seiji didn’t show any change at all. Nick looked hard for one, too. But the moment he’d climbed off Nick’s lap last night, he’d been back to normal. Seiji had told Nick coolly to get off his bed so he could finish writing in his journal and he hadn’t looked at Nick twice since.

Now that ever-present crease between Seiji’s eyebrows conveyed his general displeasure and contempt with everything around him. Including Nick. Nick hadn’t really expected anything to change. That was part of the deal, the agreement that things didn’t have to change. But it felt a bit like Seiji had forgotten that he’d kissed Nick—_he’d_ kissed _Nick._ Because now he was looking at Nick with the same face Nick thought he’d turn on soggy toast.

“Get over it, you two,” Harvard barked at them and Seiji shot their captain a slightly disgruntled look, too, before he pulled on his mask. Nick did likewise.

For some reason, Coach Williams had decided that Seiji and Nick were a good match and so they’d spent _a lot_ of time fencing each other. Nick liked fencing Seiji. He didn’t like talking to Seiji afterward, though. Seiji’s criticism, though bluntly given, was helpful. Nick had no issue taking that. The thing he didn’t like was Seiji bitching about being paired with him _again._ Nick knew that Seiji thought he was too far above Nick to be benefiting at all from this. And, as Seiji won their match 15-2, Nick could kind of see his point. And listening to each and every one of his teammates’ assessment of his performance only seemed to further that point.

But Coach knew what she was doing and she wouldn’t waste her so-called most valuable asset on something pointless. So when it was Nick and Seiji’s turn again, he tried to keep his team’s suggestions in his head. He did a little better this time. And he’d do a little better the next time. And eventually…

“I _will_ be the one to break through your guard,” Nick asserted again after their last match of the afternoon. Seiji, entirely unimpressed, didn’t even stop to comment on it.

“Jesse Coste already beat you to it,” Aiden said breezily. “_He’s_ top fencer. As long as you’re setting your sights impossibly high, why not aim for beating _Jesse_ instead?”

“I don’t care about Jesse,” Nick said, dismissive as he moved to store away his blade and mask. “It’s Seiji I want.”

“How touching,” Aiden crooned. “Seiji, anything to say to that?”

“I think I’ve already made my position clear,” Seiji answered shortly, giving neither Aiden nor Nick so much as a glance. Too far beneath him to be graced even by his attention.

Seriously, Nick might have expected _some_ show of acknowledgment from Seiji that they’d kissed for like forty minutes not even a full twenty-four hours ago. But Seiji betrayed nothing at all. He hadn’t during school or during practice. And, boringly enough, he didn’t when they were back in their room either. Not even a spare peek in Nick’s direction. Not even the slightest inkling of nerves.

Nick had plenty of nerves, enough for the both of them. Especially given that Seiji wasn’t showing any interest at all. So he abandoned any thoughts of kissing he might have had that night, and the night after it, too. And for a whole week. He pretended that everything was exactly the same as it always had been and could almost convince himself that it _was_. Except he kept remembering the feel of Seiji moving against him. He wanted that again—wanted to see that moment in which he had, in a very tiny way, broken through Seiji’s guard.

It was clear that Seiji wasn’t planning to do anything in regards to their arrangement. And why should he? Nick doubted he’d ever had to pursue anyone or initiate anything, being such a damned ‘eligible bachelor’ would make someone lazy in the upkeep. So, obviously, it was up to Nick. And that would be fine if Seiji left any opening for that sort of thing.

He didn’t. Not really. Nick could never catch him in their shared room doing anything he dared interrupt. And his body language was closed-off, standoffish. That and his perpetually annoyed expression whenever his eyes landed on Nick made a compelling argument to giving up on the whole thing. But—_damn_ had Nick liked the whole thing. He’d liked kissing _Seiji_ for sure. And it was worth a try to tease out that flustered quality in his roommate again before trying out kissing with someone else.

So what if Seiji wouldn’t give him an opening? Nick would make one.

“We don’t have to be at the assembly for another hour,” Nick said, lazily watching Seiji tie his tie. “Why bother with the whole ensemble so early?”

Seiji’s lip curled into something resembling disgust as his eyes traveled up and down Nick’s own outfit at the moment—slacks and his button-down, which may or may not have been fully buttoned up.

“An hour is hardly early, considering the time it takes to get properly dressed—,”

“Like, two minutes. How do you manage to drag it out into a longer process?”

“_And_,” Seiji said, ignoring Nick’s question, “the time it takes to get _to_ the assembly.”

“Also not that long. You could get away without the tie and vest and all for at least another half hour.”

A sneer was Seiji’s only response. What a douche. But Nick kept watching him all the same. He was a very attractive douche. And he was good at kissing. And he did look good in a uniform. But that wasn’t saying much. Seiji looked good in anything. _Not,_ Nick thought, _that I’d ever tell him that._ Seiji had too high an opinion of himself to begin with. He did not need Nick adding to it.

“Did you move my pencil case?” Seiji might have asked it but it sounded like it was already an accusation. He’d finished dressing and had moved on to checking his bag. Good thing, too, since his pencils were apparently missing.

“Nope,” Nick said honestly. Seiji glared at him, not quite trusting him, but checked through his bag again. Nick let him search around his bed for a minute before saying, “I didn’t move it. You left it on the desk last night, remember?”

Seiji straightened and turned to Nick, making a strangled sound something like a scream. “Obviously I _don’t_,” he said, stalking over to Nick and the desk he sat at. “You couldn’t have told me sooner?” He demanded angrily as he bent across Nick to grab for the case. Nick caught a whiff of his fancy cologne and an eyeful of his chest with his uniform so carefully put into place. And the red tie that looked so pretty on him, tucked away under his vest.

Nick grinned. Seiji was presenting an opening, after all.

Nick’s hand shot up and grabbed the length of tie visible between neck and vest, yanking it hard and bringing Seiji’s face to his. Seiji made another sound, between surprised and indignant, but he didn’t get a chance to actually say anything. Nick was sure he’d have a lot to say after but, for now, Nick knew of a good way to keep him quiet. Keeping a firm grip on the tie, Nick also took a handful of Seiji’s hair and guided him more precisely into a position Nick could kiss him from.

Seiji might have acted entirely disinterested and unfazed over their last kiss but he clearly remembered it. He melted easily into it without a fight, only bracing himself against the back of Nick’s chair, his remaining arm falling on Nick’s shoulder and forgetting its intention to retrieve the pencil case. It was fun to hold Seiji in place and kiss him like this. He seemed especially receptive just then and it made Nick wonder if he’d been waiting for this. For Nick to kiss him again. He liked that thought.

“Nicholas,” Seiji gasped, breaking away only far enough to speak. And his face was properly flushed now from the kissing. “My back,” he said and, terribly, thoughts of when else Seiji might imploringly say that flashed in Nick’s mind. He pushed _that_ image out of his head quick. This was only kissing. Just fun. It wasn’t sex and it wouldn’t be. Because sex was supposed to mean something. And this? This didn’t mean anything beyond feeling good.

“Sorry,” Nick said softly, sorry as much for his accidental imaginings as for the discomfort he’d caused Seiji.

Seiji considered him a moment and then started to straighten, Nick’s hand falling from his hair and his arm withdrawing from Nick’s shoulder. The fabric of Seiji’s tie ran through Nick’s fingers, pulled free from his vest. Before the fabric could run into air, Nick closed his hand around it. It caused Seiji only the tiniest stutter, though, because Nick was standing up now too, wrapping the tie around his hand, pulling it taut.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Nick asked him, using the tie to pull him in close again. “We’ve still got at least fifteen minutes before we need to leave.”

“Ten,” Seiji negotiated as Nick closed in on his lips. It was nothing but a whisper when he spoke again, “I’ll have to…” he gave up on speaking and let his lips meet Nick’s.


	3. Chapter 3

“No more of _that_ in the morning,” Seiji said as they walked to the assembly at top speed. “And no touching my hair if I’m going out again, you mess it up beyond fixing. And _my tie_,” he complained. “You wrinkled it.”

“If you’d waited to put it on until it was time to leave like a normal person, it wouldn’t be wrinkled,” Nick retorted. He examined Seiji briefly out of the corner of his eye. “And your tie doesn’t look _wrinkled_. Maybe a little rumpled but only if you look closely.” This, it seemed, had not been the thing to say. Seiji glared at him.

“It’s all your fault.”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, feeling pleased. _Also_ not the thing to say.

“If you can’t behave properly, I’ll take away your privileges.”

“_Privileges?_ What, am I a fourth-grader and you’re my TV Time?”

“TV Time will be weekends only if you don’t agree to my conditions before we get to the assembly.”

“Jesus, okay. I won’t kiss you in the morning anymore or touch your stupid hair.”

“Don’t _say_ that,” Seiji hissed even though they were the only ones not already in class or at the assembly.

“Alright, first rule of TV Time. Got it.”

Seiji gave him a reproachful look and then quickened his pace even more, pulling ahead of Nick purposefully. Nick rolled his eyes and caught up. They weren’t even late, eking in the double doors just before a teacher took the stage and started to speak.

Nick kept getting distracted by Seiji the whole assembly. Seiji suffered no such ailments, staying completely and stonily focused. You really wouldn’t guess, looking at him, that he’d been doing anything out of the ordinary. Sure, his hair was a little out of place and his clothing ever so slightly rumpled and his lips a little redder than usual. But you wouldn’t notice any of those things and think they added up to kissing. Seiji’s scowl and general demeanor would turn anyone off such assumptions, even if the signs were a little more obvious than Seiji would prefer. And Seiji didn’t do anything to give himself away. That much, Nick was beginning to realize, wasn’t about to change no matter how hard Nick kissed him or how well Seiji responded to it in the moment. When they were done, that was that.

Enemies with benefits.

Well, that was fine with Nick. He’d only dated in the loosest meaning of the term and it had always felt awkward. So if Seiji wanted to ignore him most the time, then so be it. He was good to kiss and he’d let Nick do it—after this morning, Nick was confident that he’d be allowed to kiss Seiji more. He’d just have to grab the guy to do it, which, again, wasn’t so bad.

“Would it kill you to pay attention?” Seiji asked under his breath. So he’d noticed Nick’s eyes on him, despite never taking _his_ eyes off Principal Eisler.

“I was just thinking,” Nick replied in a slow murmur, “about how much I’m looking forward to tonight.”

He took great pleasure in the way Seiji’s jaw twitched, the way he shifted slightly. It could almost be read as anticipation.

* * *

Nick hardly waited for the door to finish closing before turning on Seiji. He hadn’t gone off immediately and busied himself with other things. It had to mean some sort of progress that he only stood and watched Nick with mild disinterest.

“We’ve got fencing,” he said when Nick took a step closer to him.

“It’s a late practice today,” Nick said, unconcerned.

“You’re not to touch my hair, understood?”

“It’ll just get messed up when we fence anyway. Does it really matter?”

“Yes,” Seiji said firmly.

_Well, okay then. _But Nick just shrugged, raising his hands to the lapels on Seiji’s blazer and making as if to flatten them down.

“Whatever, I’m sure I can find other things to do with my hands.” Nick grinned at the very unimpressed look Seiji gave him. And then he bunched his hands into the fabric they’d been resting on and dragged Seiji against him without giving him the chance to comment on Nick’s unsatisfactory line.

“Are you determined to wrinkle my entire wardrobe?” Seiji asked with irritation diluted by whatever _this_ was.

Nick didn’t answer, just pressed his lips back against Seiji’s and kissed. But he did have some manners, so he very politely unbuttoned Seiji’s blazer and pushed it down his shoulders. Only, his brilliant plan backfired. Seiji absently allowed Nick to free his arms and continue pushing the jacket down them but Nick didn’t succeed in getting the damn thing off. Seiji jerked away with such force, Nick was scared he’d hurt him somehow, even though he’d kept his teeth to himself so far.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he said when he saw the real reason for Seiji’s disengagement. He’d slipped the rest of the way out of his blazer and was walking towards their shared closet to—if Nick was reading this right—_hang it up_. And, yep, there was the hanger. Nick watched in disbelief as Seiji carefully straightened out the wrinkles.

“I know it’s a novel concept to you but I don’t believe in leaving my belongings on the floor until I need them again.”

Nick was unable to control the loud howls of amusement that spilled from him. “Oh god, you are a handful, aren’t you?”

“I’ve no idea what you mean,” Seiji said, still fussing with his blazer.

“I mean that if this is how you acted with all your other gentlemen callers, I can’t believe they stuck around long enough for you to get much kissing done at all.”

Seiji’s shoulders bunched up and he paused momentarily before continuing to hang up his jacket.

“If you’ve got a problem with it, I’ve really got no investment in this arrangement and would be perfectly happy to call it off,” he said, clipped and irritated. He did _not_ like being poked fun at. Nick laughed again but had the good sense to stifle it.

“I never said that,” Nick soothed, stepping up behind Seiji and doing the thing that felt natural in this situation: looping arms around Seiji’s waist and resting his chin on a shoulder. Then he realized that he had access to a lot of neck and jaw and turned his head so as to kiss against some of it. “And you can’t deny that it’s strange to stop in the middle of kissing to do laundry.”

“I don’t…” Seiji might have said more but Nick found a tender spot of skin at the juncture of neck and jaw and bit it lightly, making Seiji’s retort blend into a sound that Nick thought might properly classify as a moan. It would have been hot on its own but the way Nick could feel it vibrating through Seiji’s neck made it indescribably so for reasons Nick couldn’t quite articulate.

True to his word, Nick’s hands weren’t lost for what to do even with the ban on Seiji’s only slightly ruffled hair. As Nick continued his attack on Seiji’s neck, he deftly pulled at Seiji’s tie and loosed his collar enough to get at even more skin. Seiji leaned into Nick, his head falling backward on Nick’s shoulder and an arm reaching around to grab at Nick as though he thought he might fall without a firm grip.

Despite the many layers that Seiji still wore, there was something compromising about the position, making Seiji seem more exposed than Nick had ever seen him. It sent a thrill through him and his fingers dug deeper—maybe even a little possessively—into the folds of fabric that softened Seiji’s lean muscles.

“So,” Nick mumbled, not really expecting or wanting an answer. “I’ve learned my lesson about undressing you unless I feel like waiting for you to fold everything, but it should be fine if I don’t actually take anything off, right?”

“The next lesson you’ll learn is to _shut up_ unless you want to lose any chance you’ve got at undressing me,” Seiji growled in response.

Nick didn’t doubt his dumb mouth could get him into trouble with Seiji but, just then, the warning was doing nothing to deter him. It was hard to be worried about such a threat when the person saying it was still so alluringly fit against you.

It worked out for both of them, though. Nick didn’t actually have anything more to say at the moment. He just trailed his hands down Seiji’s torso to find the hem of his sweater-vest and slipped up under it. Seiji didn’t protest. Nor did he object when Nick started pulling up his shirt, untucking it with almost as much care as Seiji had tucked it in this morning. Nick wondered if Seiji wore an undershirt. He seemed the type to. But he didn’t linger too much on the query. No point to. After all, he was about to find out.

Nick’s fingers grazed against skin straight away after untucking the button-down. So, no, it would seem that Seiji _didn’t_ wear an undershirt. There was something sexy about it; that Seiji didn’t bother with the extra barrier between his bare skin and the crisp white shirt. It shouldn’t have been so tantalizing an idea—Seiji was one of the few people who routinely wore his sweater or vest under his blazer. There were plenty of layers already. And Seiji was hardly the only one to forego an undershirt. Nick never wore one. But there was something about _Seiji_, prim and meticulously practical and whom you’d absolutely expect to wear one _not_ wearing it…

“I think I’m going insane,” Nick said against Seiji’s neck. Seiji didn’t answer him this time. He seemed to be concentrating, eyes squeezed shut and mouth set in a determined line. What was that about? _Does it matter?_ Nick thought and answered himself easily, _no, it doesn’t._ No matter the reason for that face, Nick wanted to break it, wanted to tease out a reaction with his hands, dancing lightly against Seiji’s stomach and inching upward.

It wasn’t until Seiji shuddered and gasped when Nick raked his fingers gently against what must have been a particularly sensitive spot that Nick realized the concentration was specifically on keeping himself from reacting like that. Because, right after his slip, Seiji regained his concentration but this time there was a brilliant blush across his face. There was a desire to laugh collecting in Nick’s stomach but he squashed it down. He shouldn’t push his luck, shouldn’t laugh at Seiji too much. But Nick couldn’t help wanting to tease him a little because he wore that blush so well.

“I like your reactions,” Nick said, spanning his hand across Seiji’s chest, just above his heart. It thumped frantically against his hand in a very gratifying way. “There’s no reason to try holding back. I’ll have them out of you one way or another.”

“That’s enough, don’t you think?” Seiji asked softly. Though, to be fair, Nick was pretty sure the softness of it was an accident, judging by the way Seiji frowned after it came out.

“Enough of what?” Nick was genuinely unsure what Seiji was referring to. Enough teasing? Probably he _had_ gone overboard. Enough with this whole arrangement? Nick hoped not.

“Nicholas,” Seiji said, his hold on Nick’s arm tightening as he did. Nick had never heard his name said that way. He hadn’t known names could sound like that. Didn’t know it could feel so good to have your name called like that. With a hint of a whine that conveyed a wanting and a desperation. And Nick was sure Seiji thought he was still teasing him but he didn’t understand what he wanted.

Then Seiji’s hand left his arm to grab the back of his head. And, as Seiji used that arm to pull Nick to him, Nick finally got it.

He’d been happily showering Seiji in attention but completely neglecting his lips. He was too distractible but now that Seiji had him back on track, the first kisses were messy and deep to make up for the lost time.


	4. Chapter 4

It got easier to to coax Seiji into kisses. No, _coax_ was the wrong word. Seiji didn’t need any coaxing. It was the initiating of the kisses that got easier once Nick got used to it. To that strange permission Seiji granted him even if he never made any indication of wanting it. It took a couple more heavy make outs before Nick fully believed that permission wouldn’t be rescinded, that Seiji wouldn’t shove him off or ask him what he thought he was doing. That had yet to happen. Nick was still careful, though. Making sure only to pounce in moments he thought Seiji was adequately idle.

Seiji still never showed any signs that he was interested in impending kisses or affected by them at all, even after a week with the arrangement in full and proper swing, but Nick didn’t really mind. He’d even come to like it in a strange way. There was something irresistible about the way Seiji was completely closed off and ambivalent until the moment Nick pinned him down for a kiss. Sometimes literally. But whether said pinningwas literal or figurative, Seiji was clearly more interested in Nick than he liked to let on. It was obvious in the way his mouth always slid open and his hands always found somewhere to hold to on Nick’s person. It was obvious in the sounds he’d make and the way he always pulled Nick closer instead of pushing him away.

Yes, Nick had managed to catch Seiji’s attention. Just not in the way he’d wanted, exactly. Still, Nick doubted very much that Seiji was thinking anything about Jesse Coste or what skills Nick had been _given_ by him during moments like this. Moments where Seiji suffered Nick’s impulses and allowed himself to be pulled on Nick’s bed, leaning closer the slightest bit in anticipation of the kiss Nick would deliver shortly. Moments like this were completely _Nick’s_. Nick’s and Seiji’s.

Nick smiled at Seiji’s tiny lean, encouraged by it enough to do something stupid. He closed what little distance was left between them and fitted his mouth against Seiji’s, one hand twisting into his hair—he was in for the night—and pressing the other against Seiji’s chest. And then, at the first hitched breath of the day, he did more than press. He pushed.

Seiji, not expecting this attack, toppled easy backward and landed, quite conveniently, with his head on Nick’s pillow that was, for once, in its proper place.

Nick was over him in an instant, itching to reweave his fingers into soft hair and retake soft lips with his. Seiji stared up at him in something between alarm and disbelief. He was so startled by the turn of events that he didn’t really react further. It would have been easy to press on and kiss him until he let go of his misgivings but Nick knew better than to try it. Where would behavior like that land him in the end? Without soft hair or lips to touch and kiss practically whenever he wanted.

“No good?” He asked, holding himself so that very little of his weight was on Seiji.

Seiji blinked and his surprise was broken. Enough so that he considered the question, considered the position, considered Nick.

“No,” Seiji said. “I don’t mind, really.”

Nick smiled brightly at the response and let more of his weight shift downward.

“Well, I like it,” Nick said, rather obviously even by his standards.

“You would,” Seiji said with the beginnings of a sneer. Nick ignored the implications there, stopping the sneer and the accompanying psychoanalysis from fully forming. Seiji, very impressively, Nick thought, managed to make a very unimpressed and borderline scolding sound as Nick leaned in and pressed their mouths together. But, beyond that, Seiji showed absolutely no signs of displeasure. In fact, he seemed to like the position just fine, if the way he pulled roughly at Nick and forced him to settle even more on top of him was any indication.

Nick was intrigued by kissing and the way it made him like Seiji so much more than when they were doing anything else. He found it interesting how Seiji’s mouth was so familiar to him by now but that he always seemed to find new ways to fit his against it. There were things he knew already that he liked, though. Things that always got good reactions out of Seiji, too. The pull of a lip with gently wielded teeth, for instance, was a favorite of his. He also enjoyed kissing the teased lip softly after. This, in particular, seemed to drive Seiji insane. The way Nick liked to kiss hard and deep and fully and then pull away, offering slower and gentler kisses for a time.

This time when Nick slowed the pace to kiss lightly at the already swelling bottom lip he’d been focusing his attention on, Seiji rearranged himself slightly, using the quiet moment to get more comfortable. His mouth fell away from Nick’s briefly, head tilting back on the pillow as he tried to slide down on it without having to shift his entire body. It was too good an opportunity.

Nick tugged at the pillow to get it where he thought Seiji probably wanted it before taking advantage of the brilliantly exposed neck it supported. Seiji exhaled a soft breath and shifted again but with no deliberate thought. His fingers tightened in Nick’s shirt, urging Nick’s own fingers on in their work unbuttoning while he kissed a slow trail down Seiji’s neck. One leg bent up, the other falling open a fraction and causing Nick to slot between them. Seiji’s left leg, now firmly rooted into the mattress, seemed to press in on Nick, keeping him in place.

“Yeah,” Nick said, quiet but smug. “I don’t think I’m the only one that likes this.”

“Stop talking,” Seiji said with no small amount of scorn. “It makes me like you less.”

“Hmm,” Nick said, agreeing, not to stop talking, but to the sentiment of that statement. He agreed that he found Seiji much more enjoyable when he wasn’t talking but Nick wasn’t one to keep his pointless thoughts to himself.

He’d unbuttoned about halfway down Seiji’s chest and now trailed fingers between the hung-open edges, pushing aside the cloth and seeking out greater amounts of skin. Seiji suppressed a shiver, Nick could feel him fight it off. He smirked and dragged his fingers back up with just as much deliberate carelessness to the caress as before. Then he traced the ribs over Seiji’s quick-beating heart.

“Right here,” Nick said, brushing a thumb higher up on Seiji’s chest. “Your fourth. I _almost_ got my first hit on you here. Do you remember?”

“You’re so predictable it’s pathetic.”

“But do you remember?” Nick insisted, completely still as he watched Seiji squirm. He didn’t know what to do with Nick when he held still. Nick thought he liked the constant movement employed during kissing. It was harder to think about how irritating the person kissing you was when you were distracted by a flurry of sensations.

“Yes,” Seiji folded. “I remember it. I remember parrying easily enough. I remember my riposte landing. I remember beating you fifteen-zero.”

“Still,” Nick murmured softly, thumbing over his target again. “I almost had it. I think I’ll take it now.”

“What are you talking about? You can’t just—,” but Seiji cut off when Nick took the skin he might have marked months ago if he’d made the point between his teeth. He fully intended to make up for the loss tonight and leave a mark in Seiji’s unguarded fourth. Seiji’s back arched, betraying his enjoyment of the process, if not with the reasoning behind it or the hickey itself. Seiji was weird about his skin and didn’t let Nick do as much to those tender spots on his neck as he would have liked to.

Once he’d finished to his satisfaction, there was a stark purple stain left under his lips. He pulled away slightly, intending to soak in the fact that he had _Seiji Katayama_ on his bed. On his back. With his shirt partially undone and a new bruise in his fourth. But Seiji followed, arching farther off the bed, chasing after Nick. And that was more enticing even than the view. So he pushed Seiji carefully back into the mattress and kissed his mark again. Then he dragged his lips to a spot a little lower, a spot that Nick had found deliciously sensitive when brushed over with fingers. He wanted to see how Seiji would react to his lips and teeth and tongue. Wanted to hear it in gasps and moans. Wanted to feel it in shivers and arched back and tightened fingers.

The door rattled loudly, protesting to the brutal knocking that had suddenly filled the room. Nick jumped in surprise, jarred back to the world outside of Seiji. Even Seiji jolted in alarm, momentarily tightening his hold on Nick before they both realized that that was the opposite of what they needed. Nick hopped off the bed in a hurry as their unwanted visitor hollered through the door.

“Nick, let’s hang!” Eugene was still pummeling the door. “I’m bored and I’m not leaving until you offer entertainment so open up!”

“He’ll break the door,” Seiji said, still sprawled haphazardly on Nick’s bed. He looked good there—_Damn it, Cox, this is _not_ the time to admire your asshole roommate._ “Nicholas, if he breaks our door, it will be a huge inconvenience.”

“You want me to answer it while you lounge in sight? Fuck, _get up_, will you?” Nick hissed, tugging Seiji off the bed and shoving him toward the bathroom.

“You can’t be serious,” Seiji scoffed. “You’re going to hide me in the bathroom? Of my own room?”

“Got any better ideas, genius?” Nick snapped. Seiji frowned.

“It pains me to say it, but you’re right. I’ll just be in the bathroom, then. Get rid of him.”

“Yeah, no duh,” Nick said, waiting until Seiji had closed the bathroom door before going to open the one currently under attack. “Jesus, Eugene,” Nick said, yanking it open, “ever heard of chilling the fuck out?”

“Yeah, you’re one to talk,” Eugene sniggered but then his eyes tracked from Nick’s face to his rumpled shirt and, finally, to the bed that was even more unmade than usual. One eyebrow ticked up. “Bad timing?”

“The worst,” there was no point denying it. “So you’ll understand why I have to ask you to leave,” Nick said, going with the most direct method of _getting rid of_ Eugene there was. Eugene was grinning way too big now, having followed the natural path from the bed to the bathroom, from which light shone under the door.

“Who’ve you got in there?”

“If I was going to tell you, I wouldn’t have hid him in the bathroom, would I?”

“Sure, I get it. How’d you boot Seiji out of the room?”

“With way less effort than it’s taking to boot you out,” Nick said and then sighed in exasperation when Eugene didn’t leave. “I don’t know where Seiji is. Fencing or studying or something, don’t you think? But he’ll be back eventually. I haven’t got all night,” Nick doubted he’d be getting any more kissing out of Seiji tonight no matter what. But it seemed to him he was more likely to convince Seiji back into a good mood if he got rid of Eugene as quickly as possible.

“Alright, alright,” Eugene said, putting his hands up in defeat. “I’ll leave so you can get back to it.”

“Thank you.”

Nick had spoken too early. He saw a flash of devilish grin and then Eugene was dashing at the door—the _wrong_ door. The one Seiji was behind. Rational thought didn’t occur to Nick at all, he just reacted. In no time at all, he’d tackled Eugene to the floor, before Eugene was close to even touching the door. The door that was most definitely locked. But Nick had panicked at the thought of Eugene seeing Seiji and he’d—_acted like a damn fool,_ his mind supplied as Eugene broke into cackles loud enough to wake up anyone who’d turned in early for the night.

“Dude, chill, I wasn’t actually going to barge in on your little friend,” he wheezed. “You shoulda seen your face, fucking _priceless._”

“Whatever,” Nick mumbled, standing and offering his hand down to Eugene with a healthy dose of embarrassment. “You had your fun, now can I get a raincheck on the hangout?”

“Sure, sure,” Eugene was still laughing but allowed Nick to herd him to the proper door. “Goodnight, Mystery Bathroom Boy!” He called before Nick could shove him out of the room and shut the door behind him.

“I got rid of him,” Nick said, feeling a little stupid as he knocked on their bathroom door. Seiji opened it, looking unimpressed with Nick’s efforts. No surprises there. But it _was_ a surprise to find Seiji in much the same state he’d left him a couple minutes ago.

“What took so long?”

“You heard,” Nick tried to sound irritated and not like he was distracted by messy hair and unbuttoned shirts. “He made a mad dash for you last minute.”

“I did have the good sense to lock the door, you realize.”

“Yeah, I know, but I wasn’t going to risk it.”

Seiji nodded. “I suppose I can sympathize with that. I don’t want this going public any more than you do.”

“Oh yeah,” Nick said. “That too. But mostly I was thinking that I didn’t want him to find you looking like this,” Nick reached out and ran fingers under Seiji’s open shirt-collar, pushing it out of the way. “Because this is for me to see and nobody else.”

“For now,” Seiji corrected sharply.

“Right,” Nick agreed easily as he caught Seiji around the waist and reeled him in closer. “For now.”

Nick was honestly kind of surprised when Seiji didn’t protest with excuses of needing to sleep or having lost interest in this for the night. In fact, the interruption might have amplified his interest because he grabbed Nick’s face and kissed him instead of saying anything more at all. The way Seiji held firm and kissed hard made Nick tighten his arms around Seiji for insurance. This way if he fell, they’d both fall. And he might be in danger of falling.

It was a while before Seiji’s hands fell from Nick’s face to occupy themselves elsewhere, another slice of infinity before Seiji let Nick have back possession of his mouth. He kissed the corner of Seiji’s mouth gently, the little frown he stored there so familiar to Nick for reasons very different than this. But this…_this_ was everything Nick had never thought to want—especially not from Seiji—and he found it hard to think of this as a _for now_ kind of situation. The way Seiji knew to tilt his head so that Nick could get to that junction of jaw and neck he liked so much, the way Seiji sighed softly every time Nick kissed the tender skin there, the way his fingers curled tighter into Nick, the way Nick could feel Seiji’s neck flex and strain under his lips…it didn’t feel very _for now_ at all.


	5. Chapter 5

Nick was ready to become one with his bed. Or a floor somewhere. He was exhausted and fed up with being a person. It had been a _supremely_ shit day. He’d fallen during his morning practice, which had been made all the worse by Seiji and his personal coach both looking down at him with distaste like his tripping and falling had deeply inconvenienced them. And then he’d managed to dislocate his knee. He’d fallen just fine but, apparently, standing up was too hard for him to manage because his knee had popped right out. Then he’d had to go to the nurse to make sure he hadn’t done any real damage. Which had led to him missing breakfast and getting to first period late and Ms. Zhang didn’t take kindly to tardiness. Then he’d bombed his geography map quiz. Who knew that you didn’t automatically know all the states and their capitals just because you’d spent your whole life living in the U.S.? And afternoon practice had been brutal, to top it all off.

“You’re back,” Seiji said rather obviously after Nick had slipped through the door. How was it that he managed to make everything sound like an accusation? “I don’t see why—,”

“Can you just not?” Nick asked, throwing his bag to his side of the room. “For once can you shut up and keep your opinions on me to yourself?” Seiji looked like he planned to do no such thing. Telling Seiji to shut up was a surefire way to get yelled at. But today Seiji just set his jaw, crossed his arms, and locked a reproachful glare on Nick.

“Fine,” he said shortly. “I’ll just keep my mouth to myself, shall I?”

For the first time that day, Nick laughed. “Let’s not be hasty,” he said and didn’t hesitate at all to steal a kiss from Seiji’s mouth—a mouth that was dangerous for more than one reason.

Seiji’s arms uncrossed in no time and took up residence around Nick instead. And, when Nick stole a peek at his face, his angry expression had smoothed out. Looking back at those first days when Nick had been trying to figure out how to kiss Seiji, it was almost laughable that he’d felt so intimidated by the hostile posture and sharp, arching eyebrows. He knew better now than to be put off by Seiji’s general demeanor, no matter how cold or dark it was. It all fell away with relative ease if you knew what to do. And Nick did.

Seiji wasn’t one for comfort or sweet words. If he were, that comfort and those sweet words certainly wouldn’t be for Nick. But he found comfort in Seiji’s mouth all the same. And when he moved from Seiji’s mouth, he found comfort in the nook of his shoulder and neck, the scent of his freshly washed skin familiar and pleasant. Nick just stood there, leaning into Seiji and wrapping his arms even tighter around him. Breathing in and then breathing out again, a happy noise escaping him on the exhale. This was good. Good enough to make the day seem less like a total loss.

Seiji was frozen in place, unsure as he always was during the quieter moments. But even the quiet moments involved some kissing or hand wandering. This was more extreme than anything Nick had pulled thus far into their enemies with benefits relationship. Ironic, really, considering how tame it was. Considering what other things he’d pulled.

“Seiji,” Nick hummed into Seiji’s skin, warm and inviting and so different from the boy it belonged to. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a fondness for that boy, usually so cold and dismissive. Because sometimes he got like this—tolerant and responsive, if not as warm or welcoming as his flawless skin. “You’re the best.”

“I’d ask how _you_ could possibly be the judge of that, but the conclusion you’ve come to is so obviously correct, there’s no need to.”

“You,” Nick said, pulling away to half-laugh, “are such a snot.”

“And you’re not doing yourself any favors by insulting me right after you compliment me.”

“Maybe if you could take a compliment without being a snot I wouldn’t have to insult you,” Nick grinned, pressing his smile to Seiji’s frown quickly before pulling away completely. “Okay, I need to do homework.”

“Homework?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. You’ve never noticed that I actually study before?”

“I can’t say that I have. I don’t pay that much attention to what you do.”

* * *

“Is that a new skirt?” Nick asked. Bobby did a little twirl, his navy blue skirt fanning around him. “It’s cute, I like it.”

“Thanks! I just finished it last night,” Bobby was obviously pleased that Nick had noticed, his smile cheerier than ever as he fell into step next to Nick. He must have been planning to watch the team practice today.

“Don’t mention it.” Bobby’s smile was infectious and Nick slung an arm over his shoulders with affection.

“See, that’s how you take a compliment.”

“Okay, fill me in. Who took what compliment and how?”

“Just a boy I’ve been—not _seeing,_ but kissing, you know.”

“You’re kidding me,” Bobby halted, forcing Nick to do the same. “You’ve been not-seeing someone and you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Nick shrugged. “Just casual fun. Anyway, he’s a complete twit about compliments. Totally insufferable. Like, I told him he was the best and he was all,” Nick pulled on his best snobbish voice, “_Obviously that’s the correct assumption to come to because I am the most amazing person in the entire universe.”_

Bobby giggled. Nick loved Bobby, he always laughed when he was supposed to.

“Maybe he just doesn’t know how to deal with compliments?” Bobby suggested. “So he responds with arrogance?”

“I don’t know,” Nick said skeptically. He thought that Seiji had just gotten _too many_ compliments to be any good at appreciating them.

“You never know, sometimes the most confident people have the deepest insecurities.”

“Real deep, Bobby. Where’d you get that? Off a fortune cookie?”

“Don’t disrespect the cookie,” Bobby warned. “I’m just saying, you should try again with the compliments. It feels nice getting them no matter what.”

“Sure,” Nick said to humor Bobby. “You staying to watch?” He asked when they came to the huge gym.

“Yep! Saturday’s the only practice open to watch, no way am I missing it!”

That rule was curtesy of Aiden and his gaggle of Bons. Though Seiji had a solid following too. Nick forgot about them a lot because Seiji didn’t encourage them the way Aiden did.

“Move it, slowpokes,” Eugene said but, contrary to his request, he broke in between them, replacing Nick’s arm over Bobby’s shoulders with his own and catching Nick with his other one. “You gonna cheer me on today, Bobby?”

“You know it,” Bobby chirped happily. Eugene looked smug.

“Bobby cheers everyone, you knucklehead,” Nick told him with a laugh.

“Ooh, somebody sounds jea-a-a-lous_,_” Eugene sang. “Is Bobby the mystery boy you had hidden in your bathroom last week?”

Bobby shot Nick a scandalized look. “No way! Seiji let you sneak someone into your room?”

“So it wasn’t you, then?” Eugene obviously had never thought it was and the mischievous grin he was giving Nick now implied something Nick didn’t like. “I wonder who it could be.”


	6. Chapter 6

Nick stood off to the side, watching Seiji and Harvard closely. He knew he shouldn’t, but he felt a pang of jealousy seeing them fence together. Coach Williams had decided to mix up their regular rotation, putting Seiji with everyone _but _Nick. It was fair, he guessed. He was always fencing Seiji. It was so commonplace that he’d even started to feel entitled to that position. _Started to_ was an understatement and Nick knew it—when Coach had redirected him toward Eugene at the start of practice, he’d actually protested. Just remembering it, his face seared.

“You’ll benefit from fencing all your teammates, Nicholas,” she’d told him, unsympathetic to his plight. And perhaps a little intrigued by his reluctance. Eugene had been fully intrigued, that knowing smirk that had only just disappeared coming back with a vengeance.

“He’s amazing,” Bobby breathed, having sidled up from the rest of the onlookers to watch with the team. Coach Williams let him. She’d snapped when any of the other boys had tried to leave the wall but didn’t say anything to Bobby about it. Nick wasn’t sure Bobby even noticed his privilege in this regard.

“Who?” Nick said, feeling unkind. “Harvard?”

“Well, him too.”

Nick only grunted noncommittally. It wasn’t Seiji’s fault that Nick didn’t get to fence him today but Nick was sure he was glad for the reprieve of their endless bouts. He always complained about their partnership and it irritated Nick that Seiji was happy—as happy as Seiji ever was—to be fencing Harvard practically all day today.

“I keep thinking I’ll get used to how brilliant he is but every time I see him, I get hit again,” Bobby continued, as ever unconcerned with Nick’s lack of enthusiasm for this topic.

But Nick knew what Bobby meant. Seiji was something else when you gave him a blade. Nick couldn’t ever look away.

“Stop flirting with Bobby,” Eugene said, elbowing Nick. “And pay attention. You’re supposed to be learning from this.”

“Who died and made you captain?”

“Harvard’s busy dancing with your man so I’m just doing my part while he’s otherwise occupied.”

“Don’t call him that,” Nick said irritably, shoving right back at Eugene. Truthfully, he didn’t mind the sound of that and it irritated him even more.

“Sorry, your _partner. _If you pay attention maybe you could pick up a trick or two.”

Nick shoved Eugene again but he did lock back in on the match, trying to focus on the fencing instead of on the feelings. Harvard could give Seiji a run for his money without invoking any of the mental sabotage Aiden used to supplement his skill when up against Seiji. Nick hated that Harvard scored more points on Seiji than he’d ever managed in one go despite all the times they’d fenced. Eugene was right, he obviously needed to step up his game. So, for the rest of the practice, he paid proper attention and worked hard when he got a chance to fence, even if Seiji wasn’t one of his opponents.

Eventually, he’d be a worthy rival and then Seiji wouldn’t complain when they fenced, wouldn’t think so much of Jesse either. Eventually, all Seiji would be able to think about would be Nick. He’d make sure of it.

* * *

Back in their room, Nick watched Seiji efficiently move through his nighttime routine. He’d forgotten—hadn’t bothered?—to close the bathroom door when he went in to dry his hair and Nick was fascinated by the way he worked it into place with his brush.

“If fencing falls through, you could be a posh hairstylist,” Nick said when Seiji switched the hairdryer off and the noise died down enough to speak.

“Haven’t you got better things to do than watch me dry my hair?” Seiji was only snappish because he’d jumped at Nick’s voice and he hated to be caught unawares.

“Yes,” Nick said seriously. “But I need you to be done messing with your hair to do them.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No. I’m tired and I don’t have time for you tonight.”

“Not even—?”

“No. You said I could neglect you all I wanted. Tonight I’m taking you up on it. You can try again tomorrow.”

Seiji purposefully strode over to his bag and pulled out his computer before taking a seat on his bed. Nick watched for a second, feeling a little stung. _Neglected._ He hadn’t gotten to fence Seiji and now he didn’t even get to kiss him. But there was nothing for it. So he left Seiji to his work and tried to accomplish some of his own.

An hour later, he gave up. The assignment was boring and not due for two more days so pressure wasn’t forcing him to focus on it. He could hear Seiji neatly clicking at his keyboard. Nick knew it was a stupid idea even as he stood up and let his legs carry him over to Seiji, still sitting on the edge of his bed like he’d gotten too absorbed in his work to get more comfortable.

He was ignored.

But when Nick sat down, Seiji spared a quick glare.

“What part of _not tonight_ don’t you understand?”

“I won’t,” Nick protested. Won’t _what_ exactly, he didn’t have to specify.

“If you’re not here for kissing then I don’t know what you want but I know I don’t want to deal with it.” He went back to his work. Nick didn’t leave even though it was a clear dismissal, and Seiji must not have been lying when he said he didn’t have time for Nick tonight because he didn’t go to the effort of trying again to make Nick leave.

Slowly, Nick inched fully onto the bed, situating himself behind Seiji. Again, he was ignored. At the first brush of fingers against his back, Seiji tensed and his typing ceased.

“Nicholas,” he warned. Nick was on thin ice, he could practically feel it cracking underfoot.

“I won’t. I’m not doing anything. Just keep ignoring me.”

The typing resumed. Nick only looked at the screen to confirm that Seiji wasn’t working on anything fun—no Harry Styles fanfiction tonight. But he hadn’t come over here because he was interested in Seiji’s computer. He’d come over here because he’d wanted to touch Seiji, even just a little. So he did. He traced up and down Seiji’s back and watched the way it reacted in twitched shoulder blades and bunched muscles that gradually relaxed beneath his hands. The light blue cotton shirt Seiji wore was not transparent nor clingy. It wasn’t even form-fitting, hanging off him without appeal and obscuring a better view of his back. Nick wanted to pull it off or push it up. He wouldn’t. He didn’t even slip a hand under it to feel the heat of Seiji’s skin directly. That was bound to distract Seiji and then he’d be sure to kick Nick off the bed.

Nick lost track of time, it could have been minutes or hours since he’d sat himself down here. He hadn’t brought his phone over. Hadn’t paid attention to the progress on Seiji’s screen. Had only listened to Seiji’s even typing and watched Seiji’s broad back and shoulders. He traced patterns—only one of which had been a dick—into the blue fabric with a finger, rubbed careful circles into shoulders, and located Seiji’s spine, running a single finger down it and producing a shiver and a warning look from the action. It had to have been some substantial amount of time that he’d been at this, now that Nick thought on it. His hands were warm with the friction and Seiji’s back was all loosened up, not flinching or twitching no matter where his hands roamed.

The room was suddenly slightly off and Nick couldn’t tell what was different until he heard the dull clack of the laptop shutting. Seiji had stopped typing. Now, with a sigh, he arched his back in a stretch that was followed by rolled shoulders.

“What do you want?” Seiji asked, slipping his computer off his lap and onto the bed. “You’ve been suspiciously quiet. Whatever you’re planning, it won’t work on me tonight. I’m tired.”

“You’re never tired after fencing me.” It hadn’t been what he’d meant to say but it was out his mouth before he could even think to stop it.

“What?” Seiji was twisting around to look at Nick, baffled. “I don’t know what you’re moping about but stop it. My exhaustion has nothing to do with—no, I won’t get pulled into this, you deal with your hurt feelings yourself.”

“They’re not hurt,” Nick scowled at Seiji. Seiji scowled back. Why was he scowling? Nick didn’t know and he doubted Seiji would tell him so he didn’t ask, instead he slid his arms around Seiji’s waist and pulled him snug against his chest. Then, into his shoulder said, “I just missed fencing you today is all.”

“Obviously. Everyone in the gym could tell how aggravated you were.”

“You sure think highly of yourself.”

Seiji shrugged, the movement so small Nick only noticed because it had disrupted his chin’s seat on his shoulder.

“Clearly, you think highly of me too.”

It was a challange, bait for a fight. There was no way Seiji didn't know it was a conceited thing to say. Nick would usually contest that, probably by insisting that Seiji needed to be knocked down a peg and that he'd be the one to do it. But Nick didn’t see the point in arguing if Seiji had noticed him fuming at practice. Obviously, Seiji was something special even if he was a complete dick about it.

“I guess. But everyone knows you’re the best fencer at Kings Row, of course I like fencing you best.”

“You never win.”

“Why do you have to say that when I was being nice?” Nick asked irritably. “I might not win yet but I’m getting closer. It’s like…fencing you, I’m always at my best.”

“Then it’s even worse I beat you so thoroughly and so often.”

“You’re in a mood tonight,” Nick said, considering pulling himself off of Seiji and storming over to his bed. “I think I forgot how mean you are since I kiss you more often than I talk to you.”

“You also said I could be as mean as I wanted.”

“And I'd kiss you all the same," Nick finished. "But I’m not allowed to kiss you tonight." He’d already weighed that option carefully and decided crossing boundaries when they’d been set wasn’t something he was willing to do. But he didn’t think it was fair of Seiji to be nasty when he wasn’t able to shut him up properly.

“I’m tired,” Seiji said slowly, irritated right back, “because I keep pushing all my work off until late to accommodate for the new social obligations in my schedule.”

_Social obligations? _It took a minute for Nick to get it.

“Kissing,” he said, comprehension dawning, “you mean kissing me. That’s what’s got you so tired.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m too tired to fit it in tonight,” Seiji said quickly, rightly guessing that the information made Nick want to kiss him even more.

“That’s alright,” Nick said, tugging at Seiji’s sleeve just enough to make the collar shift. He kissed the sliver of exposed neck, feeling much better than he had all day. Then he remembered a tip he’d picked up this morning, even if it wasn't of the sort Eugene had meant he should collect. It was still about Seiji, technically. And winning something from him, in a way. “Hey Seiji?”

“What?” Seiji asked, peeling Nick off him. It had taken him way longer than Nick had expected to shoo him away.

“You’re the best." He flashed a smile as he allowed himself to be shooed off the bed.

“So you’ve said,” Seiji replied flatly.

Looking at Seiji, Nick knew Bobby’s fortune cookie bullshit about insecurities was exactly that: bullshit. But Seiji was at least a little confused at the repeated compliment so it’d been worth giving. Nick stole a kiss so tiny he didn’t think it counted as disobeying Seiji’s ban and, with that, he returned to his bed feeling close to satisfied.


	7. Chapter 7

Seiji’s eyes trained on Nick with annoyance.

“Nick, bro, how many Monsters did you chug?” Eugene asked.

“I’m not that bad,” Nick shot. For Seiji’s sake too. “I’ve just got some nervous energy.”

“Yeah, like Seiji’s got _some_ skill. You’re, like, vibrating, man.”

“I know,” Nick groaned. “But I’m freaking out, dude. What if Aiden doesn’t come?”

“He won’t,” Seiji said, unconcerned.

“If Aiden doesn’t come, it just means one of us gets to fence.”

“Yeah, and then if we lose it’s our fault.”

“Listen, I love it when you panic because it makes you super easy to beat but that only applies when I’m the one fencing you so snap out of it. Get out of your head, you’ll be fine if Harvard puts you up.”

“Don’t you _want_ to fence?” Seiji asked, terse and impatient. It was his fault though, for sitting close enough to Nick to get jostled by his nervous energy. “Isn’t that why you came to Kings Row?”

“Technically,” Nick muttered, “I came to Kings Row specifically to beat _you._”

“And how’s that worked out for you?”

“Not how I expected,” Nick admitted. “But anyway, just wanting to fence isn’t good enough.” He wondered why he’d said it once it was out of his mouth. He didn’t even like to think that way, much less admit it out loud. It got him in a funk. Wanting to fence _had_ to be enough, loving it more than anything had to be enough. Otherwise, where did that leave him? Sick with nerves, apparently.

“No,” Seiji agreed ruthlessly, “it’s not. But you made the team.”

“As reserve.”

“Hey! You talking shit about team reserves? That’s my honor you’re spitting on,” Eugene piped up.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—,” Nick sighed, frustrated. This was just making him feel even worse.

“You made the team,” Seiji repeated, scooting down the bus bench to escape Nick’s leg, which had left his personal space bubble and accidentally bounced right into Seiji’s. They’d rented a cool party bus with the bench that ran all the way around. Nick still couldn’t believe Seiji had willingly sat down next to him when they’d boarded. Maybe he hadn’t meant to. Unmeaning or not, he was regretting it now. “But if you don’t think you deserve to be here then leave. You’re wasting everyone’s time with your self-doubt.”

“Seiji, you’re making it worse,” Eugene said, but he didn’t sound particularly admonishing. More like he was curious to see where this would go.

“I _do_ want to fence,” Nick said after letting Seiji’s words settle into him. “Maybe you don’t understand because you know you’re great and all but the rest of us get nervous about losing. Except maybe Aiden, I’m not sure that he really cares.”

“Aiden’s got commitment issues,” Eugene offered. “I think he’d worry more about fencing if he let himself admit that he loves it.”

“He’s just irresponsible,” Seiji disagreed. His opinion on Aiden was neither high nor subtle. “He can’t even be bothered to tell anyone he doesn’t plan on coming. And we should have left ten minutes ago, but Harvard insists we wait to make sure.”

“Commitment issues,” Eugene repeated.

“Irresponsible,” Seiji insisted.

“Both can be true,” Nick pointed out magnanimously.

“Anyway, Nick, just tell Harvard you wanna watch the big kids show you how it’s done,” Eugene made a ridiculous show of flexing his muscles. “I’m sure he’ll understand and let you sit on the sidelines.”

“Oh, you are _on_,” Nick rallied, laughing as he aimed a kick at Eugene, but the aisle was a little too wide to allow it to land. “I’m gonna be the one to fence in the morning and _you_ can sit at the kiddie table.”

“We’ll see about that,” Eugene said, then turned to stick his head out the window and shout to Harvard, asking after Aiden’s questionable arrival and their subsequent departure before heckling him about being put on in Aiden’s place.

Nick fell back against the seat and shook his head.

“That won’t help your cause, if anything Harvard’s gonna let _me_ fence just because of how annoying you are,” he said but Eugene didn’t hear him. Seiji had, though, and a small tilt of his head caught Nick’s eye. “What?” He asked because Seiji was frowning deeply, looking close to troubled. Nick couldn't think of any reason he should look so put out.

“Nothing,” Seiji scowled, turned away. “You seem in higher spirits now.”

“Huh?” But then his brain processed the observation and he couldn’t deny that he did feel a lot better now. Watching Eugene dangling out the window, Nick wondered if he’d done that on purpose. The cheering Nick up bit, not the window thing. Obviously he meant to be hanging out the window.

In the reflection of the window Eugene _wasn’t_ crawled halfway through, Nick caught Seiji’s expression again, turned discreetly toward him and set in a way that indicated he was trying to figure something out and wasn’t liking at all what he was coming up with thus far.

* * *

“Good thing Aiden didn’t come,” Eugene said when Coach Williams handed them a pile of room keys and told them to _figure it out._ Two rooms, two cramped and tiny beds in each.

“It would have been fine,” Harvard said, mouth ticking down at the reminder that Aiden had skipped out on them. “We always make do.”

“Right,” Eugene said, staring dubiously at one of the beds in the motel room they were all peering into. “I’m not sure any amount of spooning could fit two people on one of those beds but I guess you all have your ways and I don’t want to know too much about it. Well, I’m hunkering down in this room. Harvard, you with me?”

“I don’t see why not,” Harvard said, then handed Nick and Seiji each a keycard to the adjacent room. “Go do whatever you need to do and then make an appearance at the meet-and-greet with the other team. I texted the details to the group chat, did you all get it?”

“For the millionth time, yes,” Nick said, adding a belated _Captain_ to the end of his statement at the stern look from Harvard.

“Then I expect to see you there without having to come track you down. Dismissed.”

Nick rolled his eyes at Harvard’s teacher-voice but only after he was out the door and safe from being caught doing it.

Seiji slipped past him the moment he’d opened the door to the room they’d been designated to and claimed a bed.

“I wasn’t holding that for you, you know,” Nick told him, letting the door fall shut.

“You might not have meant to open the door for me but you did hold it while I went through. So, technically, yes you were.”

“Then, technically, you owe me a thanks.”

“I’m sure you’d like that.”

Nick wasn’t sure how the comment was insightful or critical of him but he could tell that it was meant to be.

“Most people like getting thanked when they do something nice.”

“You didn’t mean to do anything nice.”

“You just said it doesn’t matter that I didn’t mean to because I did. So I’m owed a thank you.”

Seiji didn’t say anything in return, just kept unpacking his suitcase, laying all his things out neatly for tonight and hanging up his clothes for tomorrow. Nick watched the whole process, sure Seiji could feel the extra attention. Even outside the constraints of their Kings Row uniforms, Seiji still looked like he was wearing some variation of it. Gray slacks and white button-down under a navy v-neck sweater. He looked good but entirely too dapper and put together after such a long time in the bus. He didn’t look disheveled at all. Nick liked it when he looked disheveled. Particularly if he’d been the one to dishevel him. And that sweater was begging to be ripped off…

There had to have been something in his face when Seiji looked up at him because he sighed and stopped fussing over his things to, ostensibly, deal with Nick.

“Fine,” he said as he made his way across the limited floor space to stand in front of Nick. Without hesitation or consideration, Seiji leaned to press a kiss against Nick’s lips. Nick regretted immediately that he hadn’t been paying better attention when it had happened. Kisses from Seiji out of the blue were rare in the way unicorns were rare and Nick hadn’t expected it, hadn’t been watching for it, had instead missed all the tiny moments that brought Seiji’s lips to his and away again. He wanted to ask for Seiji to repeat it. “Thank you. For holding the door.”

He tried to leave again, back the way he had come, confident and determined and somehow casual and uncaring, too. Seiji couldn’t have been stupid enough to think that Nick would actually let him go. His fist was full of navy blue sweater before he’d even made the conscious decision to grab it. The gesture stopped Seiji cold, even surer than grabbing his arm or wrist or waist would have. The sweater would get stretched if he made a move to escape Nick’s grasp.

“You’re welcome,” Nick returned the kiss but it wasn’t enough. Seiji seemed to know it, too, and so he began to work Nick’s fingers out of the easily ruined fabric, not trusting Nick to be delicate enough with it to let him keep his claws in it. There wasn’t any reason to protest this. They both knew Seiji wouldn’t have made any move to escape even without the extra incentive. So Nick released the fabric with minimal prompting from Seiji.

“Should I remind you that we’re expected at the meet-and-greet?” Seiji asked warily, letting Nick’s fingers curl into his waist and pull him close enough that their chests bumped together.

It wasn’t a suggestion to stop, not really. Because Seiji was already sliding his hands up Nick’s arms and finding a hold on them, just loosely around his biceps for now but any contact Seiji gave meant it could easily turn into more. That he _wanted_ it to turn into more. So Nick pretended to consider the question. Then:

“No. We’ve got plenty of time.”

Seiji clearly didn’t believe so but he didn’t shut Nick down.

“Hey,” Nick said, pushing a little. “Kiss me again? I wasn’t expecting the first one. I didn’t pay enough attention.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“Seiji,” Nick pressed.

“You’re wasting time. And we’re already short on it.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“Why are you being so persistent?”

“Because I like when you give in,” Nick only gave the truth because he knew it would make Seiji flush. It did. “And I like it when you kiss me.”

“I’ll bite you instead,” Seiji growled, less likely than ever to kiss Nick again. Possibly he’d hold a grudge over this and it’d be a long time before he gave Nick another little kiss with hardly any reason. But it would have been a long time, anyway, so he decided that it had been worth it.

“I don’t mind,” Nick told Seiji with a shrug. Seiji went even redder.

“You’re wasting time,” he said again, irritation clear in his face and in the fingers dug too deep in Nick’s arms.

He was right. Nick was wasting time. And Seiji cared enough to mention it. Twice. It wasn’t a kiss but it was good enough for Nick.

It was because he was in the moment of initiating the kiss himself and getting started in earnest that, yet again, Nick wasn’t paying proper attention when Seiji kissed him. Another quick press of lips that startled Nick because he hadn’t expected Seiji to do it. Especially not after Nick had asked him.

Seiji must have been even more impatient than Nick had realized and it made all of Nick’s patience run out. Fast. With enough speed to make Seiji let out a small exclamation, Nick shoved him up against the nearest wall. He liked doing that; it made the clash of bodies and weight steadier, made him feel less like they’d topple over from forgetting themselves. He liked also that it kept Seiji in one place, made impossible for him to run away—no, Seiji could still run away. If he wanted to. Nick liked how this proved he didn’t want to. That he liked this enough, trusted Nick enough, to let himself get cornered.

Seiji pulled Nick tight against him and, finally, here was the kissing. Seiji really was great at it, the way he slid his tongue against Nick’s and knew just the right amount of pressure to apply in which moments…it drove Nick to distraction thinking about it when he should be paying attention to class or conversation. A part of him, small and mean and jealous, hated every boy Seiji had kissed before him to be so good at it now. As always when that ugly thought took him, he pushed it down. He didn’t have a right to feel that way over Seiji. He should be thankful to all those boys before him, probably. Without them, Seiji wouldn’t have had anything to prove. Without them, Seiji wouldn’t know how to kiss like this. Without them, Nick wouldn’t be kissing him now. So he banished the thought and kissed Seiji even harder because he could. Because _he_ was the boy Seiji was kissing right now.

Seiji responded to Nick’s sudden urgency with his own, something of an aggression to the way he moved his mouth and hands now. Like he thought Nick had meant to start a fight. Nick hadn’t but he didn’t really mind the extra sharpness to Seiji’s tongue. There were about a million things Nick wanted to do, all of them clamoring for him to touch more, kiss deeper, press harder. Bad ideas fueled by desire and by Seiji’s sharp tongue and clinging fingers clamored for his attention too. He wanted to—

“Yo,” the door gave a hearty rattle. Eugene really didn’t know how to knock softly. “Harvard told me to tell you to get your asses to the meet-and-greet soon. He and I are headed there now. He’ll be pissed if you skip out, no matter how good your excuse is for what else your asses might be busy doing!”

“Hilarious, asshole,” Nick called back, heart pumping adrenaline through him. He was so, so, _so_ glad that Eugene didn’t have a key to this room. He probably would have waltzed right in just for a laugh. Seiji wouldn’t get over it if something like that happened. As it was, Seiji stood worrying still, hardly a breath escaping from his lips as though Eugene even hearing him in here would be condemning. “We’ll meet you there, don’t worry!”

“Sure you will,” Eugene replied with something that might have been a laugh. Nick strained to hear anything more but there was nothing. Even with the silence reassuring Nick that Eugene had left, he didn’t move at all and neither did Seiji.

“He’s gone,” Seiji said eventually, so definitively that Nick wondered if he could see through the peephole from his vantage.

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, calmed down completely from the worry of getting caught. Seiji was so warm against him.

“Nicholas...” Seiji said. A warning.

“We’ve still got a little time,” Nick said, bad ideas coming back in full force. He kissed along Seiji’s jaw as a test. Seiji let him. He kissed Seiji’s neck next. He was allowed to do this too. He pushed aside the sweater and found a collarbone through crisp white cotton. He was permitted to kiss here also, and he could feel in the way Seiji shifted that he wanted more. It was no time at all before Nick had Seiji’s shirt open enough to kiss the same spot without it in the way. When he scraped teeth against skin, it erupted in goosebumps. Seiji sighed and his head fell back against the wall. A surrender. An invitation.

Carefully, Nick mouthed at Seiji’s neck, now stretched so prettily. It was tempting to work the skin properly, to bite and suck and mark it all up but Seiji only let him do this because he knew Nick wouldn’t leave behind any visible traces. Nick would much rather hold himself back than break that trust.

He kissed all up Seiji’s neck and made his way back into his mouth. Despite the insistent and rough kisses Nick pressed to Seiji’s lips, he seemed to have lost interest in any sort of battle, letting Nick have his way without any complaint. When Seiji had settled down into Nick’s whims like this, giving away control and concern, Nick’s bad ideas always got louder and louder.

Those bad ideas finally got the best of Nick and he fit himself more tightly against Seiji, pushing a leg between Seiji’s thighs. Unlike the one time before when Nick had tried something like this, the adjustment didn’t phase Seiji at all. There was a sound that came with it, though, low and rumbly and delicious.

Nick had so many bad ideas.

He had to keep reminding himself that he and Seiji weren’t anything. Not anything real. And you weren’t supposed to want people like he wanted Seiji, not if they weren’t anything to you. And Seiji wasn’t. Not really. He was hot and talented and good at kissing and Nick was just getting swept up in the feeling of it. He didn’t know enough about kissing to rule out that this level of wanting wasn’t just part of the deal no matter who you did it with.

Nick heard the complaint in his throat when Seiji tipped his head out of his reach. He _really_ wanted Seiji, that was for sure.

He hoped it was just a part of kissing.

“You’re such a nuisance,” Seiji said, breathing hard and holding Nick back just enough so that he couldn’t interrupt that breathing quite yet. Nick figured Seiji was referring to the meet-and-greet they were definitely missing because of this but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“If I’m such a nuisance then why do you go along with me?” He asked. And he actually meant it, was actually curious. Seiji looked close to offended at having his motives questioned, though, and Nick wanted to get back to kissing him, wanted to smooth his face into something less harsh. He was willing to let this go without a fight.

“It’s interesting.”

Nick hadn’t actually expected Seiji to answer him and he raised his eyebrows at the reason given.

“Interesting?”

“Nicholas, do I _look_ like the sort of person who enjoys being shoved against walls?” Seiji asked with derision.

“Uh, no?” Nick wondered if it was a subtle hint to get off him but Seiji didn’t make any physical indication of moving and his hands stayed wrapped up in Nick rather than pushing him away.

“Precisely. I’ve never had anyone actually try it before. No one’s ever kissed me the way you do either.”

“So,” Nick slid a hand up Seiji’s shirt, feeling emboldened. “What you’re saying is you like _this._”

“The change of pace is…” Seiji twitched as Nick’s fingers found a sensitive spot and danced over it, but he pulled himself out of the distraction, “refreshing.”

“You’re something else,” Nick said delightedly, somehow endeared and enticed by Seiji’s stubborn and minimal reasoning. Seiji ignored him—probably he was focusing on not shuddering and sighing because Nick knew a lot about Seiji’s body by now, enough to know just where to touch and exactly how to do it to make Seiji break.

“Something good,” Nick clarified. “More than good.” He pressed his lips back into Seiji’s neck, right into that spot that was his favorite. “The best,” another kiss, a little sigh. “Yeah. Definitely. You’re the best.”

“I know,” Seiji said dismissively.

“Man, we really need to get you some humble pie.”

Seiji harrumphed. Nick didn’t mind his arrogance tonight, though. Because Seiji _was_ the best just now. He was skipping out on a team function that they’d both get in trouble for so that they could do this instead. From Seiji, that was even more unfounded than a thank you kiss. And Nick had gotten both in the same day. The same hour.

“For real,” Nick said, finally leaving Seiji’s neck to look him in the eye, “you’re pretty amazing.”

Instead of a quip about how obvious that was, Seiji dragged him back to him for another kiss. But he’d looked a little unsteady before doing it, like he wasn’t quite sure what else _to_ do.


	8. Chapter 8

Bobby slid into the seat next to Nick. It wasn’t unwelcome but it _was_ unexpected. He was usually off with Dante.

“I’ve got my cooking thing in town tonight,” Bobby dove right in, leaving Nick to try and pick up what he was putting down.

“Your ProStart thing? Or the baking class?”

Bobby was visibly impressed—and rather pleased—at Nick’s knowledge. Bobby was the nicest person Nick had ever met, it was hard not to love him. And part of loving Bobby meant listening to him even when you didn’t care about cooking or baking or sewing. Or Seiji Katayama, for that matter. Nick didn’t think it was overly impressive that he knew that Bobby had joined ProStart when he hadn’t made the fencing team, competing through cooking instead of fencing—Bobby was always testing out recipes on Nick, how could he not know about the reason for all that time logged in the student kitchens? And the baking class was something Bobby has been excited about for ages, so there’d been lots of happy babble about it. It had even eclipsed gushing over Seiji for a couple days and that was saying something.

“Baking! First class is tonight and it’s open to family and friends! Would you like to come with me?”

“Me?”

“Yes _you_,” Bobby said in a voice that implied he thought Nick was being silly. Nick was honestly touched that Bobby was inviting him, he wasn’t usually asked to attend things for ‘family and friends.’ “Who else could I be asking? Eugene?”

As if summoned by his name, Eugene Labao appeared out of the lunch crowd and plopped his tray down next to Nick’s as easily as if this was where he always sat.

“What about me?” He asked. Bobby giggled delightedly.

“I was just asking Nick if he’d like to come to my baking thing with me tonight and we thought we should invite you too.”

From Nick’s perspective, this was bullshit. But, knowing Bobby, he probably thought it was perfectly true.

“I’m usually not huge on sweets but how could I turn down such a sweet invite? Tonight, you said?”

“Yep! You’ll come? For real?”

“Yeah, for real. It’s the best offer I’ve gotten all day. When’re we leaving?”

“Five.”

“Right after practice, perfect. Meet us by the gym? Your giant’s coming along, right?”

Bobby nodded in answer to Eugene’s questions and then they both turned to their lunches, digging in now that everything was settled and decided on.

But it wasn’t settled and decided on.

“What’s that face for, Nick?” Eugene asked.

“It’s—fuck, Bobby, I’d love to go, really I would but I can’t. I have plans.”

“With who?” Eugene’s latest question got a piece of floppy lettuce thrown at his face.

“I have friends.”

“Yeah and we’re all here,” he laughed, indicating it was a joke. Joke or not, it was kind of true. Nick didn’t care about that, though.

“I’m super sorry, it’s just that with how schedules worked out this week, I haven’t been able to—,” Nick could feel a blush creeping over his face as Eugene and Bobby waited for him to explain what he hadn’t been able to do all week.

Eugene got it.

“Your mystery boy,” he said.

“Yeah,” Nick ducked his head and scratched at the back of his neck. “I got it all worked out with Seiji to have the room and stuff, you know how that is.”

“Not easy, I’ve heard,” Bobby chirped. “Room negotiations are supposed to be awful. All the boys liked to complain about it in the locker rooms after PE last semester. I don’t like dodgeball,” he said thoughtfully, “but the gossip from the locker rooms might have been worth it.”

“Seiji’s a way cooler roommate than I’d have thought,” Eugene cut in on Bobby’s wonderings. “He gives you the room _a lot _for your sexcapades.”

“Classy, Eugene,” Nick told him as he picked at another piece of lettuce. Did his and Seiji’s thing count as sexcapades? Nick didn’t think so—they were enemies with benefits, not sex friends. Nick didn’t think he wanted a sex friend; kissing without feelings was one thing but sex? He kind of wanted something more for that. Something with feelings that weren’t a confused mix of dislike and desire.

“Do you guys have a schedule for the room?” Bobby asked. “Gordon had a deal like that with his roommate so they both got to have partners over. Is it something like that? A sort of mutual deal?”

“Oh, it’s mutual, I’m sure,” Eugene sniggered, earning another piece of lettuce to the face.

“Bobby, are you seriously asking me if Seiji brings boys to our room?”

Bobby squeaked. It was like Nick had suspected, Bobby had forgotten who exactly Nick’s roommate was for a minute there.

“I didn’t mean! I wasn’t asking about Seiji’s,” Bobby lowered his voice, “_sex life. _I was just saying because Eugene was saying that it’s strange that he gives you the room all the time and it made me think how Gordon and his roommate had a schedule for the room and—! I wouldn’t ever snoop on Seiji like that.” He bit his lip, looking conflicted as hell. “But does he?” He asked in the tiniest voice, like if he said it quiet enough, it wouldn’t count. “Bring boys to your room?”

“No,” Nick said. Bobby looked admonished and Nick felt bad. He hadn’t meant to sound harsh. It was just that it wasn’t a particularly pleasant thought. Seiji bringing other boys to their room. Telling Nick to get out so he could have sexcapades or whatever the fuck. “I don’t have a contract or anything with Seiji,” Nick said, trying to lighten his tone and soothe Bobby’s guilty, chagrined expression. “Maybe I should, though, he’d love that. I bet he’d just use his nights to bask in the peace and quiet, he’s always bitching about how I ruin his focus with _all that lumbering around_ I do.”

For the rest of the day, Bobby’s question stuck in Nick’s mind. Seiji didn’t bring boys to their room, he hadn’t all year. But he had brought boys _somewhere_. Or they’d brought him. At some point. And he kept wondering how recent all that was. It was harder to be forgiving of all the other boys—people?—that had been permitted to kiss Seiji when he didn’t have Seiji’s lips against his.

Nick raked through all his memories of Seiji since they’d met, since term had started, searching for a hint of reddened lips, rumpled shirts, or flexing jaw in conjuncture with another student. Had Seiji had one of his _experiences_ in the time Nick had known him? Who could it have been? Nick didn’t remember Seiji being particularly friendly with anyone but, then again, he wasn’t particularly friendly with Nick either and that didn’t stop him from kissing him. There was no way to be sure that Seiji’s mouth hadn’t been kissed raw or his blazer pulled slightly out of place or his attention focused subtly on some boy or another before Nick had known to pay attention.

Worse than the worry about past affairs was the question of _now._ Bobby didn’t know it but Seiji was Nick’s mystery boy so the only person he’d possibly bring to their room was Nick himself. But, unknowingly, Bobby had sprung an unsettling idea on Nick. What if Seiji did have another boy? Would Nick even be able to tell?

Yes. Yes, he _would_ be able to tell now because he knew what signs to look for and Nick was definitely the only one that drew them out right now. He felt weirdly guilty for even considering that Seiji was double-dipping. Their arrangement wasn’t necessarily monogamous, they weren’t exclusive or anything, but Seiji wasn’t a cheater and he was so rigid in his ideas of right and wrong that Nick was certain he’d at least tell Nick if he started to go off to someone else’s room too.

By the time he’d waved Bobby, Dante, and Eugene off to the baking thing, Nick had decided that it was improbable Seiji’d been with anyone at Kings Row. When had he had the time? Plus, he’d said himself that the social obligations of his arrangement with Nick were tiring him out. He hadn’t been tired until Nick had started taking up so much time. Sure, it was possible that Seiji had had a fling earlier in the fall but, if he had, Nick was getting more from Seiji than that person had so it was basically like they didn’t exist even if, technically, they did.

“You look like you’re in pain,” Seiji said. Not concerned, just a statement. A little irritated, if anything, like whatever Nick’s face was doing right now was so atrocious, it was literally offending Seiji to have to look at it.

“I’m just thinking.”

“That explains it.”

Nick gave a purposeful _hahaha_ that sounded nothing like a laugh so Seiji would know exactly how funny he was.

“You’re not too tired, are you?” Nick asked. He only asked because Seiji had yawned. Really, he’d started to yawn, caught it, and stopped it. But it was more than Nick usually saw out of him. He thought again about Seiji’s new social obligations and how they exhausted him. “If you are, we don’t have to…” They were still down the hall from their room so Nick didn’t say anything about kissing, making out, or other related and forbidden terms.

Seiji didn’t give a reply and soon Nick was unlocking their door and holding it open absently for Seiji, thinking that he might be able to catch up with Bobby and the others if Seiji declared this a no-kissing night. But as soon as he’d closed the door again, Seiji leaned across him to lock it.

“If you were going to be considerate of my time, you should have done so last week when you kept me from the meet-and-greet,” Seiji said crisply. They’d gotten in a shit ton of trouble with Harvard _and_ Coach for skipping out on that and Seiji had been in such a foul mood about it that Nick hadn’t even bothered trying to kiss him for days after.

“I don’t remember you complaining,” Nick shot. He didn’t think it was fair that Seiji blamed him so completely for their scolding. “Actually, I remember a lot of things that sounded the exact opposite of complaining.”

Seiji went sour-faced the way he always did when Nick mentioned any of his less dignified responses to their kissing. It was worse now, though, because there wasn’t any kissing actually happening to distract Seiji from being pissed that Nick had heard, noticed, and decided to point out the sounds Seiji always tried so hard to keep in.

But it had been weeks since Seiji’s unkind and displeased faces had deterred or intimidated Nick from grabbing him. Seiji’s face didn’t give anything away until it didn’t matter anymore. The trick was watching for other give aways. Tonight, it was the locked door. The discarded yawn he didn’t use as proof of his exhaustion. The sour face that was still within Nick’s reach, despite possible offense taken.

Nick grabbed him. Seiji didn’t complain. He fell into kissing Nick as easily as ever, though Nick had no disillusions that he was done being passive-aggressive about the stupid meet-and-greet. But kissing never hurt when Seiji was upset at him. One of Nick’s sock—bright red because it was his favorite color other than black, which Seiji said wasn’t really a color—had gotten mixed in with Seiji’s laundry and turned all his shirts pink once. He’d managed to fix it with his magic stain-getting-out skills but he’d been livid. Until Nick had said sorry and kind of meant it and kissed him and really meant it. Afterward, Seiji hadn’t brought it up again so Nick figured he’d been forgiven. A verbal thrashing from their captain and their coach was a far greater offense than a misplaced red sock, however, and Nick knew it’d take time for Seiji to let go of that one.

Sometimes, Nick thought they ought to be talking about this more. Set actual boundaries that weren’t just implied. Set lines that Nick couldn’t test. Because, without solid boundaries, Nick couldn’t help but want to test them. There were things he knew already from testing, like that he was allowed to divert a hand down to squeeze Seiji’s ass but he _wasn’t_ allowed to do it if he commented on what a great ass it was. He was allowed to dishevel Seiji’s jackets and sweaters and shirts—granted he was willing to let Seiji put anything away that had been pulled off—but he hadn’t even bothered to try anything with pants. He was allowed to mess up hair only when it wouldn’t be seen by the public again without a shower first to reset it, but he’d found that Seiji would put up with it if he ran fingers in the same direction of the style even before they went out. The first time he’d done it, he’d been smoothing back an extremely rare wisp of disobedient hair. Seiji had snapped at him, demanding to know what he’d thought he was doing. Nick had explained and Seiji had pursed his lips and seemed confused more than angry. Then he’d turned and Nick had seen the beginnings of a flush on the back of his neck. He’d tried again the next day, just to see if he’d be stopped. He hadn’t been and Seiji hadn’t asked what he was doing.

Maybe Nick wasn’t good with boundaries even when they were solid and set in stone. He’d pushed at Seiji’s rule about hair and found a tiny way around it. That was Nick’s problem, he kept pushing until he was told not to anymore. And Seiji rarely told him to cut it out.

“This okay?” Nick asked between little kisses along Seiji’s jaw.

“Fine,” Seiji said impatiently. Nick hadn’t tested any new boundaries tonight, he’d only wrinkled up Seiji’s boring white tee and ran fingers through hair messily and, most recently, found a handful of the butt he wasn’t allowed to compliment. It was all pretty typical but Nick had been thinking about boundaries even if he hadn’t been crossing them, and it had seemed like a good time to ask and make sure.

“Yeah?” Nick was absorbed in Seiji’s neck and the elegant tendons that stood out there when he tensed in a certain way. Nick always enjoyed when he did, liked seeking those tendons out and biting at them softly. Sometimes, like now, it couldn’t even properly be called biting, but it wasn’t really kissing either. Who knew that making out had so much to it that couldn’t technically be labeled kissing?

“Yes,” Seiji said, again sounding impatient with the question. Nick spoke mindlessly but Seiji didn’t. He didn’t say anything unless there had been a purpose to it. It was one of the main disconnects in their communication. Seiji was always trying to figure out what Nick had meant—what he was looking for—in something he’d said that had only been a filler to Nick. “I—,” Seiji hesitated. Nick listened with half an ear, expecting to be told to shut up or something similar. “I like this.”

Nick froze, completely stunned. He’d never expected Seiji to say, outright, that he liked this. That he liked how Nick kissed him and all the rest that came with it. _This_ included the ass Nick still palmed in one hand, the other one playing across skin it had found under a boring t-shirt, and the messy not-quite kisses into his neck. And Seiji had just said he liked it.

Nick could almost see why Seiji had said it. Could put his own words in a context that made them sound leading instead of the casual check for comfort they’d really been meant as. He understood that Seiji had only admitted to liking this because he’d thought that was what Nick was set on hearing tonight.

“Me too,” Nick said, leaving Seiji’s elegant neck to kiss his lips softly instead. He felt like he’d just been given a gift, something fragile and precious. He didn’t want to break it. “I like this a lot.”

“That’s been clear from the start,” Seiji dismissed, proud and unimpressed but there was that flustered quality, too, the one Nick loved teasing out. “Your antics were transparent even then.”

“What? You think I _meant_ for you to kiss me that first time?”

“Why else would you start asking about my love life and if I’m any good at kissing?” That last part was dipped in sarcasm, like he still couldn’t believe Nick would doubt he was good at everything.

“Because your diary is suspect as hell?” Nick offered the reasonable—and _true—_alternate explanation. Much as he liked kissing Seiji, Nick didn’t want him thinking that he’d wanted kissing to come into their relationship before it did. Because if you wanted kissing in the relationship, it meant you wanted something else in the relationship too. It was different, though, to experience the kissing first and then decide you wanted it. Because that way, it could have been anyone. In Seiji’s version, it could only be him. And that wasn’t true. Probably. It was extra satisfying to kiss Seiji because he was so mean and cold and unrelenting. It was extra good because when Nick kissed him, he changed a little. But that was on Seiji for being such an asshole most the time, not on Nick for liking when he wasn’t.

“It’s a journal,” Seiji said, completely missing Nick’s point.

“Whatever.”

Now that Seiji was done being cute and back to being irritating, Nick tugged him close and kissed him again, soft, soft, soft until Seiji insisted on deepening it. It was one of the ways Seiji gave in, another way he did it when Nick hadn’t even meant for him to. Left to his own devices, Nick always got around to the hungrier, messier, open-mouthed kisses. But it happened every once in a while that Seiji got tired of waiting for them.

“Hey,” Nick said, suddenly thinking of something. Seiji wasn’t happy at the new interruption. “Am I in your journal?” 

Seiji could not have looked more surprised over the nature of the question and he answered automatically.

“Yes,” then he frowned the way he did after letting out a sound of pleasure. Like he’d given something away. Nick wasn’t sure what. “You must be,” he added. If that made his slip any less revealing, Nick couldn’t tell. He was more curious about the diary’s contents than ever.

“So it totally could be a record of your escapades,” Nick teased. With an immediate but embarrassed reaction like that, it was asking too much to not tease him over it.

“In a sense, it might be,” Seiji conceded. Nick went bug-eyed and Seiji quickly snapped, “but not in the—not in _this _way.”

“Right,” Nick readjusted his arm around Seiji’s back, closing the small amount of space that had appeared there while they’d talked. “I completely believe that.”

“It’s none of your business what it’s about,” Seiji told him peevishly. He’d said something similar at the start of this. But he’d told Nick more about it tonight than he’d been willing to then.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't be stopped

“How’d your night go?” Eugene asked. Nick didn’t know why he bothered because Eugene obviously already knew.

“Better than yours,” Nick told him. Baking with Bobby sounded fun and all but there were few things better than kissing Seiji. Not that Eugene would ever know that.

“Ha!” Eugene nodded appreciatively. “I believe it. While you were getting it on with your mystery lover boy, I was learning how to make the froofiest fucking dessert on the planet. Goddamn _Eton mess._ When in the hell am I ever gonna make that?”

“What even is that?”

“Exactly! That’s what I said! Fancy strawberries and cream, more or less. Anyway, frilly desserts I’ll never make again aside, it was fun. You should come next time there’s an event.”

“I’ll try to,” Nick said. But, if the baking class was on Fridays, he doubted he’d ever make it to one.

Eugene left for the showers after that and Nick ambled over to Seiji, who’d made absolutely no progress towards the locker room.

“Should I start calling you Sneiji?”

“What?” Seiji wasn’t amused. He clearly didn’t understand but he was pissed already anyway.

“Snail Seiji,” Nick explained with an amiable grin, “because you’re being so slow.”

“I’m not being slow.”

“You’ve moved like an inch since practice ended.”

“Yes, because I’m not leaving yet. Dmytro’s coming.”

“How long?” Nick wasn’t smiling anymore. It had already been a late practice and Seiji liked to abide by the curfew even though no one ever checked to make sure lights were out and students were in bed.

“As long as it takes.” Seiji’s tone left no room for negotiation or needling so Nick followed after Eugene to the showers. Maybe he’d give Bobby a call and ask how the class went. Bobby would probably tell him all the specifics about Eugene’s froofy strawberry dessert, but he felt a little bad for bailing last night. 

* * *

The door had hardly made it all the way closed before Nick snatched Seiji and dragged him into a kiss. He made a sound of protest that changed to a sound of pleasure soon enough. A bag bumped against Nick, reminding them both that Seiji hadn’t been allowed time to drop it before he’d been captured. He escaped Nick’s arms now to tuck it away. Nick let him go, poised to grab him again the second he was done. It was taking forever. Seiji didn’t often appear tired but he did tonight. He’d been fencing practically the whole day and it showed, his movements sluggish now by his usual standards.

Nick had been impatiently waiting in their room for the last half hour, after Bobby had waved him off so he could go out with Dante. Date night, he'd said. Nick had left without complaint and retreated here, too distracted by the idea of Seiji's arrival to get any of his piled high homework done. But Seiji looked tired. And he’d yawned last night too. It would be the right thing to do, letting Seiji get some much-needed sleep. The problem with that was how hot Seiji looked, even tired as he was. His white t-shirt—one of many he owned and aways changed into fresh after practice—clung to him in a way Nick had never seen it do before. Sweat was the cause of it, which meant Seiji hadn’t bothered to take a shower before coming back. More evidence of his exhaustion—he hated putting on clean clothes without at least a rinse. And his sweatpants were lower on his hips than usual, a sign of neglect Seiji didn't usually practice when it came to his attire. The low-riding sweats weren't even the worst of it; a corner of his shirt had pulled up, revealing glimmering skin he hadn’t noticed yet. Sleepy, for sure. But sexy too.

_Just a little bit,_ Nick decided. He’d only ask Seiji for a little bit more time before letting him sleep.

“Can’t you wait?” Seiji asked with some exasperation as Nick recaptured him, finished now with the bag. Already, he’d found the sliver of skin and pushed up the clinging shirt to reveal more.

“I did wait,” Nick pointed out. “Technically, I’ve been waiting all day.”

“We kissed for over an hour last night, Nicholas. Is that not enough to last you a day?”

“No.”

“It’s enough to last you another twenty minutes.” Seiji pulled away from him and made a face. “I’m drenched in sweat and completely disgusting. Don’t—,” he said sternly when Nick took a step toward him, “touch me. I’m not looking to get filthy again because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“But—,”

“You’re lucky I don’t make you take a shower, too, from what you’ve already done.”

“You can’t _make_ me do anything.”

“Want to bet?” Seiji asked imperiously. Nick glared but Seiji was probably right. If taking a shower was what it would take to get to kissing, he’d do it.

“Don’t take forever.”

Seiji didn’t agree, only collected his pajamas. Nick snuck up behind him while he looked through the dresser and, because he couldn’t have Seiji thinking he really could boss him about, Nick reached around to trace along the hipbone that was still exposed. Seiji jumped with a gasp, then promptly stormed to the bathroom without another word, not even closing the drawer before he did.

“That was a pretty good reaction,” Nick said to the room as it filled with the sound of running water from the bathroom. Looking down at the drawer to close it, Nick frowned. Hadn’t Seiji grabbed his awful and unappealing plain blue pajamas? He was pretty sure that, yes, Seiji had. But the pants were still folded neatly at the bottom of the drawer, missing their counterpart.

After brief deliberation, Nick grabbed them, shut the drawer, and moved toward the bathroom to hand them off to Seiji. But then he considered how funny it would be for Seiji to have to ask for Nick to bring him his pants when he realized he’d left them. Nick changed course, heading to his bed instead.

When the shower turned off, Nick could hardly keep himself from laughing, expecting Seiji to peek his irritable head out the door any minute, sucking up his pride to ask for his pants. But a minute passed, and then another, and then five, and by ten, Nick wondered if he should offer them up after all. It was hard to tell if the passing time was spent on Seiji’s usual routine—he took _forever_ in the bathroom—or because he was stalling about the pants.

The door finally opened but it did so in a typical way, not restrained to a tiny and embarrassed crack. Seiji didn’t hesitate at all before striding into the room, legs long and pale and perfectly toned. And completely on display. Nick couldn’t stop staring.

“Forget your pants?” He asked, trying for humor but missing the mark.

“Yes, actually,” Seiji said, eyes finding the blue bundle in Nick’s hand. The one he’d been just about to deliver to the bathroom. “But you already knew that.”

Nick shrugged. He’d been caught. He wanted to explain that he’d thought it would be funny, but he wasn’t sure if that would make Seiji’s mood worse. Although, considering that he wasn’t wearing pants, he wasn’t in a terrible mood. Seiji held out his hand, expecting Nick to give the pants over just like that.

“Those pajamas look better this way,” Nick said, not giving over the pants at all. Because it turned out that Seiji’s boring sleep shirt was super sexy when accessorized right. Namely, without the matching boring pants. The high buttons hid collarbones and neck but could do absolutely nothing to hide all that leg, and the loose, unfitted fall of it contrasted with the simple black boxer briefs that hugged Seiji’s ass snuggly. There was something undeniably provocative about the combination and Nick wasn’t done looking at it yet.

“My pants, please,” Seiji said, eyes narrowed. It wasn’t nearly as funny a request as Nick had thought it would be. He assessed Seiji’s posture, his expression. It was hard to tell with him, but Nick thought this was more of a suggestion than a hard and fast boundary. So he dropped Seiji’s pants over the back of their desk chair and advanced. Seiji watched him every step.

“May I kiss you?” Nick asked, one hand lightly working into Seiji’s hair, the other hovering over his hip. Seiji’s eyes were still small with either suspicion or deliberation. It was hard to tell. Nick didn’t know if flattery really worked on Seiji but he tried, “You look _really_ good. Like breathtakingly gorgeously good.”

Seiji looked over Nick’s shoulder to the desk and the chair tucked under it and the pants flung over that. Then he sighed and Nick knew he had him even before he saw the tiny nod.

Nick latched on to Seiji, pulled him close. He was aware of the missing layer even though it didn’t make a huge difference. When he was kissing Seiji, he couldn’t see his legs and with his own jeans still in place, he couldn’t feel Seiji’s bare skin when their legs tangled either. But when his hand slid lower, moving from hip to ass, he could swear it felt different. Like when Seiji wore his comfiest sweatpants instead of jeans or rigid slacks, but better. And then his hand dipped even lower, not really meaning to, just as a way to guide Seiji closer against him by pulling him right from the source—his leg. But his fingers met skin, warm from the shower, and Nick felt more than heard the little sound Seiji made into his mouth.

Bad ideas seemed like good ones. Really good ones.

Nick started gently herding Seiji back. “You’ve been on your feet all day,” Nick said, suggesting Seiji take another step back, another step closer to his smartly made bed. Seiji did.

“You’re endlessly considerate,” Seiji replied, sarcasm lost in his low, breathy voice.

“Mmm,” Nick agreed, kissing him again, pulling away again. Seiji let Nick push him down on the bed, first sitting, but not for long. Seiji went down easily, situating himself just so before reaching for Nick to follow. Nick did. They’d found themselves sprawled together on beds several times now and their limbs fell into place naturally around each other, but it still surprised and exhilarated Nick when Seiji’s legs allowed him a space in between them, fitting him comfortably between thighs. _Bare_ thighs, save for the short briefs.

Taking full advantage of this position and the access it granted his hands, Nick rubbed up and down the thighs that cradled him. It was new territory for them both and Seiji appeared to be as sensitive to touch here as Nick had learned he was all across his neck and chest and back and stomach and sides. That was one of the things Nick found irresistible about Seiji; he didn’t look like someone who ought to feel every touch so completely, but he did. Maybe all his feelings had gone to his nerve endings instead of his heart. But Nick couldn’t ever get enough of it.

“I’m fine,” Seiji said, recognizing Nick’s partial retreat as a check-in.

“Good,” Nick kissed down his jaw, down his neck. He was unbearably alluring already but Nick thought the look would be even better with his shirt unbuttoned. There was always a punch of satisfaction in his stomach to slipping the buttons from their holes on Seiji’s shirt, of pushing it open and kissing the skin that was underneath. Usually, Nick liked to linger on that skin. But it wasn’t his destination tonight. There was new skin begging to be explored. “Tell me if that changes.”

“What are you—?” Seiji didn’t finish his question because the answer was obvious before he’d even gotten to the end of it.

Nick brushed his lips across the impossibly soft skin of inner thigh. Seiji’s breath hitched. Nick didn’t move. This was new territory. Which meant it might be off-limits. Nick waited for Seiji’s verdict. Slowly, intentionally, Seiji’s muscles relaxed. 

“Alright,” Seiji agreed. “I’ll tell you if that changes.”

Nick smiled, turned that smile against Seiji’s leg again. Tiny kisses were worth more here than ever, each one getting some sound or shift out of Seiji. Nick maneuvered a hand against the outside of the leg he wasn’t currently kissing, lightly tracing along the toned muscle, up the curve of ass and back down again. The leg twitched continually under his touch as if it might jerk away from fingers caressing it. But Seiji never pulled his leg out of reach, nor did he voice any misgivings.

Palm found the jut of hipbone and pressed firmly enough to secure Seiji in place. And then Nick abandoned butterfly-sweet kisses to bite softly in their stead. Seiji jolted but Nick had expected that. Really, Seiji should have expected _this. _Nick paused, waiting for Seiji. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move again but for a slight readjustment Nick couldn’t see, could only hear in the rustle of fabric and feel in the way Seiji’s whole body moved with it for just a second.

Encouraged, Nick worked the fragile skin he had between his teeth, at the same time rubbing circles against Seiji’s hip with his thumb, moving both in time with the other. When he was done with his work, Nick found a new spot and started over, to another jolt from Seiji, this one with a suppressed little moan.

Nick smirked at that sound, deeply pleased by it but not enough to stop pushing for more. For any other reaction Seiji might let out for him. Getting into this new intimacy and reassured in its welcome, Nick let more of his hesitation go. He sucked relentlessly, capturing and releasing and recapturing soft skin with lips and teeth, only letting it rest and kissing it gently to bite slighting harder, just enough to leave faint imprints, just for a couple seconds. He hadn’t realized before now just how much thigh muscles could move in isolation, always jerking and twitching and tensing and untensing again, even when the rest of Seiji was still in anticipation.

A sucked-in breath and prolonged strain of the leg Seiji couldn't seem to help but push up against him signaled to Nick that he'd found a particularly sweet spot, dangerously high up the inseam of Seiji’s strained leg. First came the shuddering gasp as the breath released, and then came the movement, no longer isolated to gorgeously fit thighs. Nick had a thought forming, one that told him to stop, that this was too much, that Seiji was overwhelmed and it was time for hands-off. But Seiji’s right hand found his shoulder and dug into it with the familiar grip that meant he was steadying himself in a high tide. So Nick didn’t pull back from his prize and Seiji moved into it despite Nick’s hand keeping him in place. He abandoned that pursuit altogether now that Seiji had shown interest in readjusting his hips on his own.

Freed of its preoccupation, Nick’s hand fell back to its previous wandering, up and down the length of Seiji’s leg, but, at his touch, it bent and drew in closer to him as if eager for the attention. Nick took the hint, kissed the monstrous hickey he’d just perfected, and turned his sights on the clean canvas that had come at his unintentional call.

Seiji’s body suited him completely, made up of hard, unforgiving lines. But thighs were universally pliant and soft when relaxed instead of holding hard, unforgiving boys up in hard, unforgiving lunges. It wasn’t a huge amount of marshmallow fluff, not by a long shot, but it was still more give than the rest of him offered. Nick liked how his fingers seemed to sink into them.

“You’ve got the most stunning legs, fuck, it’s unfair.” Nick didn’t realize he was saying it until he was hearing it. Hadn’t realized he was thinking it until he was saying it. But it was true. So, so true.

“Do you have some sort of leg fetish?” Seiji asked, trying to sound superior and condescending. Nick didn’t respond until he’d finished kissing at the skin just below the hem of black fabric. He wondered if he could get away with pushing his hand up under that fabric. Only a little, tiny push.

“No,” Nick answered at last, leaving his hands where they were. Then, “Probably not.” And, finally, “I wouldn’t know, would I?” This was all new to him, everything he liked, he only knew because he’d tried it with Seiji. But he _really_ liked this and Seiji had no trouble seeing that. No qualms, either, about calling him on it.

“I think you must have,” Seiji mused. “No one else has ever been so concerned with kissing my _legs_.”

“No one else was brave enough to try, I’ll bet,” Nick told him, easily tugging one of Seiji’s leg so that it fell open, playing fingers against the skin he’d found to be most sensitive. Seiji confirmed he liked it by setting his face in a stern line that Nick would only break in another moment. “I just like _your_ legs, I think.”

“You’re into some strange things.”

“The only strange thing I’m into is _you.”_

Seiji gave a contemptuous snort in response, never one to be impressed by anything Nick said and always one to let him know it.

Nick properly looked at Seiji—not just his beautiful legs and soft thighs, and not just the set of his mouth against embarrassing gasps and sighs, but at the whole tableau of him. He was as breathtaking as ever. That was the thing about Seiji, there was no getting used to how magnificent he was. Again and again, Nick was caught by him on the strip. He always thought he’d be fortified against it but every time he saw Seiji fence, it pulled him in and amazed him. Enthralled him entirely. This was like that. The way Seiji looked when he was less concerned with keeping up his guard. There was always something surprisingly vulnerable about it that was always catching Nick and throwing him off-balance. And the way every limb and breath and strand of hair came together to form Seiji Katayama in this instant of time and every other one like it? Nick genuinely didn’t think there was a more heart-stopping, breathing-taking, mind-blowing sight in the world. There was no getting used to it.

Legs sprawled and marked, chest visible and heaving, head thrown back. That was enough on its own to haunt Nick’s dreams, but the hand tangled up in the pillow right above his head was what filled Nick with a kind of aching in his chest. Same as the hand still clutched hard into Nick’s shoulder, it was like Seiji needed something to hold. He always did that. Grounded himself, steadied himself. There was something about it that made Nick like Seiji a little better.

“You’re—,” Nick had started speaking before he’d figured out how to put it all into words and he couldn’t formulate anything good enough fast enough, so he finished with a basic summary, “the best. Completely and totally the best._”_

Seiji went pink and turned his head into that arm he still had flung above him. It was undeniably a show of shyness. _Seiji Katayama is trying to hide, _Nick thought in wonder. Over a compliment Nick had already given him multiple times. But it must never have been enough before now because, finally, Nick was getting a good response from Seiji instead of a snide dismissal.

“I thought you knew you were the best,” Nick teased. He couldn’t help himself when Seiji looked like this.

“I do,” Seiji snapped. “But you don’t need to keep _saying_ it.”

Nick found his way to the pink neck Seiji had stretched and exposed nicely in an effort to hide his even pinker face. He pressed his lips to that juncture of neck and jaw that was his favorite.

“You’ve got the best skin,” Nick told him. “Soft and pretty, I don’t know how you manage it.”

“Moisturizer. You should try some.”

Nick kissed against tendons that worked furiously under thin and temptingly delicate skin.

“And your neck is definitely the best. Real long and elegant. Perfect for biting.”

“Which you’re not allowed to do,” Seiji reminded harshly.

Nick bit him, the kind that was more lips than teeth. Then he moved down to sharp collarbones and here, too, he was all soft kisses and gentle, barely-there scrapes of teeth.

“You’ve got the best bones—,”

“I _know_ you’re not seriously trying to compliment my skeleton.”

“That’s a good point,” Nick said, pulling up to grin at Seiji. “You _do_ have perfect teeth. I’d love to see them in a smile sometime.”

“Not likely.”

Seiji hadn’t decided to come out from hiding yet so Nick was only able to kiss the very corner of his mouth.

“And,” he said when he’d pulled away, “if you’re not using it to talk, your mouth’s pretty much the best thing out there.”

“It's hardly my fault you're too moronic to understand half of what I say.”

Nick traced fingers lightly across a collarbone, giving Seiji a look that plainly said, _See? Your mouth is so much nicer when it only opens to kiss me._

“I said it wrong before, but all your edges are pretty. Like here,” he tapped a finger on Seiji’s collar. “And here,” he brushed across Seiji’s brow. “And here,” down his nose. “And here,” along his jaw. “All the best.”

“I don’t understand what you think you’ll get out of this,” Seiji said, and there was another edge. The one that showed through when he spoke; it was a sharp one, you had to watch out for it or you’d get yourself hurt. Tonight, Nick didn’t even mind this generally unpleasant edge of Seiji's.

“Nothing, I guess,” Nick ran his hands back down Seiji’s chest, finding his thighs again. “I was just saying.”

“Because I told you to_ stop_ saying,” Seiji groused. Nick shrugged. He didn’t think Seiji saw it.

“Mostly,” he agreed, slipping back into his position between Seiji’s legs. Did he have a thing about legs? He’d never noticed them particularly before but, after tonight, he was sure he’d have a thing about _Seiji’s_ legs. The feel of them under his fingers and palms and lips. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong about any of it.”

This thigh still didn’t have any actual hickeys on it yet, only the red and impermanent half-marks of a little sucking, a little nipping, but they’d all be gone by tomorrow morning, which seemed a shame. Nick’s hand guided Seiji’s leg into a position that made his intended target easier to reach and brushed lips against thigh in a promise of what he intended to do next—

“Nicholas,” Seiji said, voice strained. “I think it changed.”

“What?” Nick could tell Seiji was overwhelmed the second he’d untangled himself from his legs again. “Oh—you mean—,”

“That’s—that’s enough for tonight.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Nick said at once, pushing himself away from Seiji and breaking any contact left between them. Carefully, he stood up. “I’m—,” he didn’t want to fuck up and say the wrong thing. He was always saying the wrong thing. All he had was the truth, so he offered it up, hoping Seiji would accept it. “I’m sorry Seiji, I didn’t mean to make you—,”

“I’m fine,” Seiji interrupted. He still hadn’t moved. Nick felt guilty for admiring Seiji’s sex appeal right now, even after Seiji had told him to stop. “You didn’t—I’m _fine._ Don’t make it into a big deal. It’s just…enough for one night.”

“Right. For sure,” Nick only let himself look at Seiji’s face. “But I’m still sorry I went too far.”

“I already said it’s fine.” There was something complicated happening on his face. Nick wanted to make it better but tonight had already been _too much_. He couldn’t soothe away Seiji’s complicated expression the way he usually would. In the only way he really knew how to smooth away his expressions.

“You’re still the best,” Nick said because he couldn’t kiss Seiji but he wanted him to know that he didn’t mind, that he wanted to make it better without kissing for once. “I hope you know you can’t stop me from saying so just because we’re done for the night.”

Seiji’s complicated expression, at least, was gone. Back to the cherry-red state it had been in before Nick had pushed too hard. Nick liked making Seiji look like that but this time it hadn’t been his real intention.

“I mean it,” Nick said, looking Seiji in the eye and hoping he could see that Nick did. “You’re kind of the most amazing boy I’ve ever met.”

Seiji didn’t look away at first, just stared back at Nick with a surprise as poignant as when Nick had scored on him the first time. Complete disbelief. Then, finally, he moved, sitting up and crossing his legs in that way he did, one tucked up under the other, which he let dangle over the bed. He would have looked cool and casual if not for the general redness about him at the moment and the pillow that he’d accidentally brought with him, holding it to his chest before realizing what he was doing and discarding it with such derisive finesse, it was clear he blamed the pillow.

Then, all arranged into near-perfection and exuding confidence despite his flushed face and open shirt and legs covered only by Calvin Klein boxer briefs and hickeys, Seiji said, “Only _kind of?”_ like the smug bastard he was.

What was it Bobby had said? About arrogance being a cover for insecurities?

“No,” Nick said. “Not only _kind of.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> possibly, I should be stopped


	10. Chapter 10

Nick wasn’t going home for the long weekend. Dorms were still open so he didn’t see the point, especially since he’d get the gym to himself if he stayed. Nick had come out to say bye to Eugene, though. He was the last of Nick’s friends to leave—unless you counted Seiji, and Nick wasn’t sure if he should.

“Behave while I’m gone, bud,” Eugene told him, all seriousness and with a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“I think I’ll burn the place down, actually,” Nick told him with equal sincerity. Eugene flung his head back in a laugh.

“Man, you’re a riot. I’m gonna miss you.”

“You’ll be gone three days.”

“I’m a sentimental guy,” Eugene said, still laughing. Nick joined in, Eugene was a good time and definitely his best friend of the guys on the team. “Have fun with your mysterious lover,” Eugene winked, “Seiji!”

For a heart-stopping moment, Nick was sure Eugene was naming his _mysterious lover_ right here, right now, just like that, but he was only calling out to Seiji, who Nick found some distance behind him when he followed Eugene’s line of sight over his shoulder.

Seiji must have been on his way somewhere, Nick was sure he hadn’t come out to say goodbye. But Eugene bounded over to him nonetheless, saying something Nick didn’t catch but had Eugene laughing heartily again and Seiji looking pissed. His eyes slid over to Nick’s and his pissed-off expression got even _more _pissed off. Whatever Eugene had said, Nick could tell _he _was in the doghouse for it. Completely unjustly, but Seiji wasn’t always just.

* * *

Nick wasn’t sure when Seiji was heading out but he wasn’t so desperate for a goodbye kiss—or two or three—that he was willing to wait around in the room to see him off. Grabbing his sports bag, Nick decided to go to the gym and get in some solo practice. Fencing with other people was great but Nick knew he needed to log more time on his technique and he hated to go through basic stuff when other people were around. It made him feel like a kid compared to them and he didn’t like it. Seiji was something of an unwilling exception because he was always around when Nick snuck in extra practice. But today that wouldn’t be the case. Nick had the place to himself—the room and their bathroom and even the gym.

But the gym wasn’t all his when he walked in. Seiji was there already, like he always was. But he _should _be going home. He paused in his drills when Nick came in. Seiji didn’t look particularly happy, nothing unusual about that. But then he straightened and went to store his blade.

Nick watched him stalk toward the locker room with disbelief. Seiji was leaving because of him which, much as Nick would love him to give up the gym sometimes, never happened. He was pissed, then. Pissed enough to want to avoid Nick. Determined enough in his avoidance to surrender territory to Nick.

Nick had never seen him act like this. He’d expected Seiji to be strange after that night Nick had gotten too deep in bad ideas. It was the first and, so far, only time Seiji had shut him down conclusively. Turned it off for the night. But the next day, he’d been completely reset, unconcerned by all counts with the events of the night before.

They hadn’t talked about it. Nick still wasn’t sure which part had been _too much_. When Seiji had stopped it, he’d only been in the process of doing what he’d done already that night. To be safe, Nick had decided thighs were probably to be left alone. Even if he ever saw them again without layers covering them, which he rather doubted.

But now, when Nick had done absolutely nothing to deserve it, Seiji had decided to avoid him. And he didn’t even have the courtesy to be subtle about it.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Nick said to himself, striding across the gym and to the locker rooms with purpose. He’d just managed to catch Seiji and blocked the door, arms crossed.

“What’re you pissed at me for?” He asked, cutting right to the chase.

“Really?” Seiji looked pointedly at Nick and then at the exit he was planted in front of. Nick knew Seiji thought he was acting like a kid but he didn’t feel that bad about it. Seiji was acting like one too. “I’ve got things to do.”

That might be true but it would irk Nick if Seiji got to avoid him completely for three days without ever telling him why.

“When do you leave for home?” Nick asked. He wasn’t such an asshole that he’d keep Seiji here if he needed to go. Seiji raised a judgemental eyebrow at him.

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“I’m staying at school over break,” Seiji said, acting like Nick was dumb for not knowing this.

“Oh, I thought you’d be going to visit your family.”

“My father’s a very busy man,” Seiji said. Nick thought he remembered Seiji saying something like that before. “And so am I,” he finished, just as snide and sure. Nick laughed.

“You’re in high school. You might be busy but you’re not a _man.”_

“And sometimes I wonder if _you’re _even fully human, you act like a troll. Let me through the door.”

“Funny, I also wonder how human you are. I’m just saying you sound like a douche when you refer to yourself as a _busy man. _But maybe it doesn’t matter. You always sound like a douche.”

“Better than sounding like a moron. Move.”

“Please.”

They were at an impasse. Unless Seiji planned to physically remove Nick from the doorway, he was stuck. Explain himself or say please. Nick would move either way. He was a fair troll.

“Is this about Eugene?” Nick asked. He could tell right away that it was.

“_What _have you told him?” The question burst from Seiji as if it had been fighting to get free this whole time.

“Nothing,” Nick answered honestly. “What did he say to you?”

Judging by Seiji’s burning cheeks, nothing good.

“You must have said something,” Seiji hissed. “He _knows.”_

“Yeah, obviously he knows.” This wasn’t the thing to say, Seiji seethed dangerously at his words so Nick added, “Or he thinks he knows. I haven’t said anything so unless _you _gave us away this morning when he talked to you, then he doesn’t have any proof.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What? Why?”

“I know you told him something, he—,” Seiji cut off, reluctant to explain more than that.

“What? What did he say?” Nick pressed, worry slipping in despite himself.

“Rather a lot,” Seiji said, stalling. Whatever it was, it had embarrassed Seiji thoroughly enough that he didn’t want to repeat it. “But, among other things, he said something about compliments.”

It wasn’t particularly incriminating and, even when he did place the comment with a memory, Nick wasn’t worried.

“I might have said I was seeing someone—,” Seiji’s eyes narrowed, “—_kissing_ someone, then, whatever. Point is, I said you were terrible at taking compliments but I never said your name. God, that was weeks ago and it’s not like you’re the only boy I could be complimenting or the only one that’s shit at accepting them.” Then, because he was curious how _compliments _had Seiji so worked up, “What did he say?”__

_ __ _

“Nothing that bears repeating.”

_ __ _

“You still don’t believe me,” Nick observed. “Look, why would I tell Eugene about you? Why would I tell anyone about us?”

_ __ _

“Because of your feelings of inferiority. If people knew what you did—,” Seiji let out a frustrated sigh. “At least half the school wants a piece of me in one way or another and you have one—for now—and that’s something of an achievement. I shouldn’t have trusted you not to brag.”

_ __ _

“I didn’t. I’m not. I don’t _like _you, I don’t want people thinking I do. It’d give them the wrong idea—I’m not crazy about you like everyone else is.”

_ __ _

“You’re _just_ like everyone else,” Seiji said savagely. “You realize that everyone’s got a distinct opinion on me and only half of them are good, don’t you? You’re not alone in wanting to beat me, you’re not alone in your vendetta, you’re not special just because you don’t like me. You’re _exactly like everybody else,”_ he said it slow, deliberate, loaded with the intent to draw blood. It did. It hurt and it made Nick want to fall into a rage. The only person Seiji saw as an individual, as set apart from the masses of people he’d fenced, was Jesse Coste. Nick wanted desperately for it to be him instead. And Seiji knew it.

_ __ _

On closer examination, it actually surprised Nick a little to realize how precise Seiji’s cut had been, how targeted. He’d meant to upset Nick, yes—and he had—but he’d also paid attention to Nick at some point and in some capacity to know just how to do it. By telling him he was essentially just another face in the crowd. But you couldn’t single out someone from the crowd and tell them specifically that they were the same as the others. So Nick didn’t rage. He unclenched his jaw and let his fingers fall loose by his sides.

_ __ _

“I didn’t tell Eugene anything,” he said evenly. “I won’t tell _anyone_ a damn thing about you or us. I told you at the start that I don’t want them knowing any more than you do. You’re an arrogant asshole, I’d never want people to know I put up with that.”

_ __ _

“You’re unfoundedly confident,” Seiji narrowed his eyes even tighter, “I can’t have people knowing I tolerate it.”

_ __ _

“You’ve got a mean mouth on you,” Nick continued, “it’s hardly worth braving it just for the kisses.”

_ __ _

Seiji rallied. “You’re so inconsiderate of other people’s time and space almost all hours of the day—_and_ night—that it doesn’t even begin to make up for it when you’re somewhat thoughtful.”

_ __ _

“You’re neglectful,” Nick shot, rapid-fire.

_ __ _

“You’re needy,” Seiji rebuffed lightning fast.

_ __ _

“You’re finicky and particular.”

_ __ _

“You’re slovenly and impulsive.”

_ __ _

“You’re stubborn.”

_ __ _

“You’re persistent.”

_ __ _

“You always dress like a mannequin in a fancy store.”

_ __ _

“You’ve got stupid hair.”

_ __ _

“Yeah, well, every time I think of you, I want to pull it all out. It’s a fucking miracle I’ve got enough hair left for you to call stupid.”

_ __ _

Seiji didn’t reply right away. They both took a moment to breathe, heavy like they’d just been involved in a physical competition.

_ __ _

“You think of me often, then?” Seiji asked.

_ __ _

Nick snorted. The guy _really_ did not need any ego-stroking if _that’s_ what he’d gotten out of Nick’s complaint.

_ __ _

“Seiji, half the school thinks of you often.”

_ __ _

“But I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care if they think of me at all. I was only asking if you do.”

_ __ _

And how could Nick not respond to that? He abandoned his position at the door, quite possibly losing whatever battle they’d been having, and cupped Seiji’s face in his hand. Seiji leaned into him easily and Nick kissed him with equal ease.

_ __ _

“Yeah,” he said, letting his hand wrap around Seiji’s head, desperate to tangle into hair. To tug a little. But they weren’t in their room for the night so he was only allowed to treat it carefully lest he ruin the style. That was alright, there were more important things on his mind. Like the desire to tug at Seiji’s waist instead and force him closer. “I think of you all the damn time.”

_ __ _

“I thought so,” Seiji said, proving he was the worst at this stuff but Nick didn’t hate it, not now that he knew what Seiji looked like when a compliment hit its mark. When it finally broke through his guard.

_ __ _

“Are you done being pissed?” Nick asked.

_ __ _

“Only if you’re done talking.”

_ __ _

Nick was. And it turned out he didn’t have to tug Seiji at all because he’d already stepped as close to Nick as it was possible to get. Close enough that Nick could kiss him just like he had plenty of times before. But also close enough that Nick could feel his breathing and hear the faint rustle of his fingers carefully rooted in the hair at the back of Seiji’s neck. He felt very aware of everything about Seiji, tuned in to every sound and shift of expression.

_ __ _

Nick watched the process of Seiji’s brow furrowing up close. Every expression on Seiji’s face always looked hostile. It was the eyebrows, Nick decided. They were very judgmental and unforgiving. But from here, they lost some of their bite. He looked closer to perplexed than pissed, despite the harsh angle of his brows.

_ __ _

It was Nick’s stillness. His quietness. Seiji never knew what to do with him when he wasn’t loud and persistent even as he complained about those qualities. He always got that confused look on his face when Nick stopped to appreciate the small magic in being so close to someone. Nick had never had that before, it made sense to him to appreciate the quiet moments from time to time. They were limited, after all. Just like all moments with Seiji were. All _nice_ moments with him. 

_ __ _

“You look like you’re in pain,” Seiji said quietly, and just as quietly slid his arms around Nick’s waist. They locked around him and hands pressed into his back with no give and it was such a strange arrangement that Nick didn’t recognize it for what it was at first. It was the weight of Seiji’s head against his shoulder that made Nick realize Seiji had spoken with some degree of concern and that this was a hug.

_ __ _

“Eugene won’t tell anyone even if he’s figured it out,” Nick said, hooking his chin over Seiji’s shoulder and petting his hair in its proper direction. “Nobody will ever know about us.”

_ __ _

“Alright.”

_ __ _

Seiji was unnaturally stiff in the same way he’d been the last time Nick had hugged him. He’d had a shit day and Seiji had cheered him up, mostly against his will. Today wasn’t a bad day. Nick had no reason to need cheering up but he liked the hug anyway. Even if it was rigid and full of edges. Nick doubted Seiji knew how to do anything softly and this was no exception but he’d come to appreciate all of Seiji’s edges in most situations.

_ __ _

Nick enjoyed his small magic several seconds longer before taking pity on Seiji and turning his head to kiss a trail along neck and jaw, finding his way to Seiji’s mouth. This, Seiji knew what to do with and he fell against Nick with his familiar and fierce intensity.

_ __ _


	11. Chapter 11

Nick swallowed a strangled yell. He’d been on his way to the bathroom, half asleep despite the late hour, when he’d seen something shift in the corner of his eye, accompanied by a soft and unexpected sound like an exhaled _uhhn. _

Looking most closely toward the ominous movement and sound, Nick found that they’d both come from Seiji. Which made sense because they’d come from his side of the room. But it hadn’t made sense to him—hadn’t even occurred to him—that Seiji could have produced either because Nick hadn’t ever known Seiji to still be here when he woke up. Still be in bed. Still be _asleep. _

But he was. Asleep. Nick had never seen Seiji asleep and found that his posture broke sometime during the night, leaving him in a softer and more organic position, hair all ruffled and head turned toward a hand resting up on his pillow. His covers were out of place too. It seemed a weird discovery but Nick realized how alive and how human Seiji was, seeing him there like that. He found himself smiling.

“Gah!” He said in exasperation at himself, shaking his head and continuing on his way to the bathroom.

Seiji was still sound asleep when Nick finished showering and getting dressed. It was approaching noon and while it was typical for Nick to have slept in this long on a day off, it was incredibly strange to see Seiji exhibiting such blatantly teenager-like behavior. Had his alarm not gone off? Or was he actually participating in a break for once in his life? Nick wondered how long he’d sleep if left alone but, as he regarded the tangle of limbs sleep had reduced Seiji to, a better idea tempted him.

Seiji’s eyelashes fluttered and his hand twitched the tiniest bit, as if it was considering waking up but ultimately, Seiji remained asleep even as Nick climbed carefully onto the bed. On all fours, Nick looked down at his sleeping and defenseless rival. And Nick kissed him. Soft and on the tip of his nose. It wasn't a move he'd tried before, wasn't one he really thought Seiji would appreciate or tolerate. But it served him right for leaving himself so open to nonsense kisses. Nonsense kisses like one to the forehead or against a sharp brow. Nick delivered kisses to both places now. Then one each to Seiji's eyelids, which were twitching wildly, ready to spring open and probably narrow in a glare. It was when Nick kissed the crook of his neck that Seiji groaned awake, his hand finding its way into Nick’s hair and pulling him closer. Nick’s smile broadened as he obediently pressed another kiss against Seiji’s skin.

“Nicholas,” Seiji said, quiet and heavy with sleep.

“Yeah,” Nick answered with another kiss.

Seiji jerked, bolting partially upright before knocking into Nick and falling back down on an elbow.

“Nicholas!” He repeated, not nearly as sweet and sleepy as before. “What are you doing?”

“A complimentary wake-up call?” Nick offered. Seiji didn’t say anything, just stared at him with such disbelief it made him realize he’d probably stopped thinking straight the moment he'd noticed that Seiji was kinda cute when he was asleep. “Bad idea?”

“You’re made up of nothing _but_ bad ideas,” Seiji told him, then fell back onto his pillow entirely. “What time is it?”

“Like a quarter to noon,” Nick watched for concern but saw none. Maybe a little surprise, though.

“I slept later than expected.”

“You didn’t have plans?”

“No.”

“Then,” Nick said, daring to kiss Seiji very briefly on the lips. “Wanna hang out today?”

“Not particularly.”

Nick tried not to take it personally. Tried not to be disappointed. He hadn’t really expected Seiji to want to spend his one free day with _him,_ had he? Nick couldn’t even blame him—he knew Seiji was always working in some capacity. He deserved a day to himself if he wanted one.

“Okay,” Nick kissed Seiji one more time before rolling off him and standing up. “Catch you later, then.”

“Where are you going?”

“Dunno,” Nick admitted, then grinned. “But I’m sure I can find someone to bum around with at the mall or something.”

And he did. With a stroke of luck, he ran into a boy he recognized from history. They’d never talked but he was alone, skating despite the sign asking students to stay off the grass and off of skateboards.

“Sick moves,” Nick called. The guy—Tristin, Nick was pretty sure—caught his board and ambled over with a lazy smile.

“Thanks. You skate?”

“Not my scene,” Nick said.

“Oh yeah, you’re on the fencing team, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Sick. Swords and stuff, real cool. You stuck here for the long weekend too?”

“If I weren’t, I’d already be gone.” Nick didn’t bother mentioning that he didn’t really see himself as _stuck_ here since it was where he wanted to be.

“True that. I’m Tristin. We share history third period, right?”

“With Mr. Galbraith,” Nick confirmed. “I’m Nick. Nicholas. Whichever.”

“Wanna blow this joint and get something edible to eat? I’m starved but I’d rather eat my sneaker than another grilled cheesy from the caf.”

And, just like that, Nick had found company for the day. They ended up wandering around the mall talking instead of finding food right away, despite Tristin’s earlier insistence that the was starved. Eventually, they did find their way to food. A burger joint, much to Nick’s delight.

“I thought I was gonna go crazy, stuck on campus alone,” Triston confessed over lunch. “Glad you’re around too this weekend or I’d have been mega screwed.”

“No kidding,” Nick said, feeling strangely light at Tristin’s obvious enjoyment of his company. Why hadn’t they ever hung out before?

* * *

“Enjoying your staycation so far?” Nick asked with cheer when he returned to his room that night. He could tell right away that Seiji was not, in fact, enjoying his staycation. He was scowling, already in a bad mood that Nick hadn’t had time to cultivate so it couldn’t be his fault. “What’s wrong? _Too_ much peace and quiet?” He teased. Because Seiji’s mood was obviously beyond recovery so why not have some fun?

“I could have found company if I’d wanted any,” Seiji said snippily. Nick snorted.

“Uh, yeah, no shit. _I _offered you company this morning and you said you didn’t want any. So, I repeat, _no shit.”_

“Oh,” Seiji said with a frown, “right.”

“I like that you forgot that already. Whatever. _I_ had a great day. You know that dude with the long blond hair in our history class?” Nick made a motion with his hand by his shoulder to indicate the proper length.

“No.”

“Well, his name’s Tristin.”

“Hm.”

“I ran into him and we hung out,” Nick said, ignoring Seiji’s clear disinterest. “He’s pretty cool, actually. We snuck into the movies—,”

“That’s illegal.”

“That’s _fun._ Besides, we didn’t get caught,” Nick dismissed. “He tried to teach me how to skate but I’m miserable at it—,”

“Do you plan to talk about Tristin all night?” Seiji asked irritably. “Because I’ve got better things to do than listen to your twaddle.”

“Twaddle?” Nick laughed, undaunted and untouched by Seiji’s grumpiness. “That’s a good word. Sounds like dawdle—oh! That’s one thing about Tristin is that he’s so _slow_, I kept telling him he should be on his board and we’d be going closer to the same speed. He’s one of those people that walks like he’s got nowhere to be and he doesn’t want to get there on time—,”

Seiji had stood up while Nick was talking but he hadn’t thought much of it until Seiji launched at him, grabbing his face and smashing his into it. Nick teetered off balance before regaining his footing and catching up with the kissing Seiji was already well into.

“I think,” Seiji said crossly, breaking his kiss just enough to have room to speak, “that _you_ have better things to do than spout twaddle about Tristin. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I—,” Nick’s brain was still having trouble processing this turn of events. It wasn’t like Seiji to behave this way. Usually, this sort of thing was more Nick’s style. Nick might have been a little confused, but he wasn’t stupid. “Yeah,” he said, wrapping Seiji tightly in his arms, “I definitely do.”

The way Seiji kissed him tonight reminded Nick of the first time he’d done it. A rise to Nick’s challenge, a determination to prove that he was good at it. Nick already knew that Seiji was good at it, there wasn’t any need for him to show off. But he did, Nick was pretty sure of it. The way he hit every one of Nick’s favorite things, it had to have been on purpose. He raked fingers through Nick’s hair, his short nails scraping just so, just the way Nick liked it. And his mouth moved expertly against Nick’s but allowed him to set their tempo—including staying patient when that tempo slowed.

When Nick tried to pull away, thinking to guide them toward a bed or something, Seiji’s entire body shifted forward to follow. Nick loved that. And he loved the way Seiji looked at him so entreatingly until he gave in and kissed him again, forgetting the bed idea. But what really gave Nick the impression that his tastes were being catered to was the way Seiji seemed much more willing to vocalize his reactions than he usually was. Every touch got a gasp or a groan and it shot desire right through him every time he heard Seiji’s unabashed enjoyment.

Nick didn’t need his tastes catered to. Seiji, on the whole, seemed to be his taste. And he was good by now at getting the specific things he wanted from Seiji out of him during any given make out session. But to have it all given to him at once was close too overwhelming. It was dangerous, more than anything, to know that Seiji knew him just as well as Nick knew Seiji. It was dangerous to know that Seiji, for whatever reason, wanted to give Nick everything he wanted tonight.

It made Nick want so much more than Seiji would ever be willing to give him.


	12. Chapter 12

Nick was tired of spending all his time trying to catch up. Especially on days like today when the sky was gray and it seemed like he’d made no progress at all. It was frustrating in a way that was made even more so because he didn’t feel like he had any right to his frustration. It was selfish and childish. So what if he’d won none of his bouts against the other guys today? So what if Coach had called him out for his technique? _Again._ He’d made the team, hadn’t he? He was on the team, at this amazing school, fencing. That was all that mattered. It should have been enough. The love of doing something should be enough even if you weren't seeing anything in return for doing it. Usually, fencing was enough. Loving it was enough. Being here was enough. Sometimes, though, Nick didn’t feel like _he_ was enough.

He was nothing but two years of fencing in a dance studio, a beat-up pair of red fencing sneakers, and potential. He was nothing against the other guys. They’d all been able to fence way longer than Nick could have managed. Trading labor for lessons didn’t work when the exchange violated child labor laws. Convincing Coach Joe to take him on hadn’t been easy even at fourteen. But most of the others had had access to better and more consistent training than Nick ever had and it showed. It showed big time.

He was tired of it. Tired of always being the worst. Tired of Seiji’s impatience with being forced to fence him every time they were paired. They walked together now under the gray sky toward Castello only because Coach had kept them later than everyone else. Seiji was in a foul mood. Truthfully, he’d been in a mood since the long weekend, which Nick didn’t think was fair since he’d done his best to stay out of Seiji’s hair for it. But Seiji didn’t think spending his Thursday night getting remedial fencing lessons was fair, either, since it was clearly Nick’s incompetence that had dragged them both down.

Really, it was lucky Seiji hadn’t left Nick in the dust on their way back to the dorms. If lucky meant walking with him, anyway. Which Nick wasn’t completely sure of. Lucky or not, it was certainly strange. Nick was trudging. Even Tristin would have outpaced him. But Seiji, who always walked at a brisk clip, was still at his shoulder.

“Potential,” Seiji said, startling Nick, “doesn’t turn into anything without putting in the work first.”

“I know,” Nick snapped. He didn’t need Seiji to remind him that he was just one of the hundreds of fencers that had been told he had potential. “I’m _trying,_” he added, sounding pathetic even to himself. And, since he already sounded pathetic, he went on. “It just—it feels like no matter how much work I put in, I don’t get anything back out.”

“You made the team. That’s something.”

Yes, it _was_ something. But it wasn’t enough. Flushing, Nick watched his feet as he trudged on. He felt chastened and humbled. Seiji wouldn’t understand about not feeling like you were enough no matter how hard you tried, and it wasn’t his job to listen to Nick whine. Yes, he’d made the team and so he should just shut up and be happy with what he had.

“I don’t see why you’re sulking,” Seiji needled. Nick decided that it was distinctly _un_lucky Seiji hadn’t left him in the dust like usual. He’d already decided to stop complaining but, apparently, Seiji wasn't done rubbing salt in the wound yet.

“Don’t see why I’m sulking?” Nick fired, shame overshadowed by anger. “Says the guy who sulked so hard over one loss, he transferred schools.”

Seiji froze and Nick could see he’d gone stiff with offense. Strangest of all was the flash of confusion Nick caught on his face before it dissolved into anger to match Nick’s.

“My loss to Jesse in nothing like all of your losses,” Seiji spat a laugh. “Now _there’s _a boy who’s put in the hard work to be a worthy opponent. That match could have gone either way but I’ll make sure I never lose to him again. You can hardly say the same thing of any of your opponents without sounding like a child boasting he’ll be president.”

“You’re a real gem of a teammate. Talking with you always makes me feel so great,” Nick jeered with a fake smile stretched across his face before he spun away from Seiji and stormed across the grounds.

“I’m sorry,” Seiji returned with equal sarcasm, catching up to Nick, “do you want me to go get Eugene so he can cheer you up?”

“No, I’d like you to just think, just _once_, that maybe I fucking know, okay? Maybe _I know_ I’m the worst fencer on the team! Maybe _I know_ my progress is painfully slow! Maybe, just fucking maybe, I already _know_ all that and I don’t need you rubbing it in!”

“I wasn’t,” Seiji barked, “you’re just too sensitive. It’s not my fault you’re not good enough to beat me and so you’ve developed such a severe inferiority complex—,”

“Like hell I have—,”

“That you feel it necessary to target all your negative emotions about yourself at me—,”

“I _wasn’t._ I was minding my own business when you decided to make a bad day worse.”

“Please, your self-doubt is tiresome and unoriginal and absolutely no use to anyone. I don’t have the patience for it.”

“I wasn’t asking you to.”

“You didn’t have to, I’m stuck living with you so I don’t get a choice. I have to deal with your moods and I’m not about to lie and say you’ve got a chance of beating me—or anyone else, for that matter—just to make you feel better.”

“I can beat you,” Nick said automatically.

“Really? Then why haven’t I seen you ever come close?”

“You’re so full of yourself. I’ll beat you. Hell, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Is that so?” Seiji asked, entirely condescending. “I’ll believe that when I see it. And then I’ll go get my eyes checked to be sure I actually saw it right.”

“Better call in and make an appointment, then.”

* * *

Nick could admit to his faults. And he could admit that his impulsive and brash anger had gotten him into a situation he didn’t want to be it. Why couldn’t he have just let Seiji’s needling go? Why couldn’t he have ignored the challenge? It was an impossible one. He _could_ beat Seiji. He _would._ But today? Not likely. All he’d prove when they fenced today was what a dumbass he was. But he’d snapped. He wanted so bad to prove that someone like him, who had come from nothing, could beat someone like Seiji, who had been groomed to fit into this world he so desperately wanted to be a part of. He wanted Seiji to see it, to see that he could belong too. To see him as more than potential or, worse, a shadow of someone else entirely. And that had gotten the best of him, had made him say something stupid like _I’ll do it tomorrow._

What an idiot.

Nick caught Seiji’s eye before Coach Williams even dismissed them to fence. He glanced Nick over with such haughty disinterest it was impossible not to get the message. _You’re nothing to me,_ that look said. _You can’t touch me,_ it gloated. No one could. Except Jesse Coste.

“Ready?” Nick asked when they got into position. Already around them, the sounds of metallic clanging filled Nick’s ears. Harvard and Eugene. Williams and Aiden. Nick and Seiji.

“Try not to embarrass yourself too much.”

And then they were going. Seiji got first hit, no surprises there. Nick watched for an opening, made sure to keep his shoulder in line so it wouldn’t give him away, attempted to bait Seiji into making a mistake. Seiji never did. Every tiny opening Nick saw was met quickly with Seiji’s blade. That was the trouble. Nick _saw_ every opportunity, was fast enough to get a touch in before it was noticed. But he wasn’t technically skilled enough to get past Seiji’s parries and counters.

He’d come a long way since August, though, and met Seiji’s point with one of his own shortly after, high on Seiji’s chest. Nick’s mind shot back to Friday night. Warmth under his fingertips, the promise of more if he just pulled down the collar of Seiji's shirt a bit. Pale skin turning purple against his lips, a little memento for Seiji, high on his chest. The mark would be there still, just where Nick had left it. Seiji’s skin took over a week to recover from hickeys, generally speaking. It was possible Nick’s first point of the day had touched on that same mark. It had at least landed close enough to remind Nick. It was possible Seiji had thought of it too.

Anger flared anew in Nick. Seiji had accused _him_ of sulking but Seiji was the one that’d been surly for almost a week for no reason. He’d waved Nick off every time he’d tried to start anything. Worse, he’d refused to acknowledge that anything was wrong, had resolutely told Nick he was fine every time he’d tried to work it out. And now he was proving just as untouchable on the strip. As he always was.

“You’re not even trying,” Seiji accused, scoring his fifth hit. Hard and in Nick’s fourth. The heat of one of Seiji’s forceful jabs was so familiar to Nick, he hardly noticed anymore. “Where’s that technique you copied from Jesse?”

“I don’t copy _anything_ from Jesse,” Nick growled, fighting Seiji off.

“You’re right, _copy_ implies too much skill on your part. It’s more like,” Seiji grunted, disengaged, “like you’re taking his left-overs.”

A terrible thought occurred to Nick. More accurately, several terrible thoughts occurred to him. One was a persistent itch in the back of his mind that he always did his best to ignore because he didn’t want to think about it. Another was of a match Seiji had lost. And the third was in Eugene’s voice, telling him to pick up some tricks. Suddenly, he was sure he _could_ win this match. And Seiji’s sneering face and snarling words made him want to. So. Bad.

“Left-overs like you?” Nick asked.

The implication took three beats of Nick’s heart to hit Seiji and the impact of it was so absolute, it froze him in place, as if he needed time to physically recover from it. Seiji left himself so open for the single second it took him to process what Nick had said that he was able to claim his second point.

“I’ll make you regret that,” Seiji warned him, irate. Nick already did. For so many reasons. He remembered how last week, instead of fighting, they’d been all wrapped up in each other. He remembered Seiji’s skilled and pointed seduction, remembered the way Seiji’s body had moved against his, how his breaths had come out with hitches and sighs, how he’d given Nick everything he’d wanted without any provocation at all.

And then his stomach churned nastily as he imagined—the way he sometimes and unwillingly did—Seiji writhing against someone else instead. Someone like Jesse Coste. A part of him thought it made a lot of sense for some of Seiji’s experience to come from Jesse—a love affair turned sour and made worse by a humiliating defeat at Nationals. Why else would Seiji get so worked up about Jesse?

Nick hated thinking about it. Hated that he was using it now. But he’d opened the gate and he couldn’t seem to stop.

“Did he decide your mouth was too mean to kiss?” It wasn’t a yes or no question, not one that had an answer that could offer Seiji any dignity. He didn’t answer it, flying toward Nick instead. Sloppy.

Nick had three points to Seiji’s five.

“Did you let him peel through your layers?” Nick went on, pressing Seiji farther up the strip. “Did he get bored watching you hang them up?”

Seiji’s agitation grew and so did his distraction. Another point to Nick. Another crass suggestion whispered in Seiji’s ear. A hit to his chest with painful force, enough to make him reel from it. But Seiji was coming undone in his rage and the fifteenth point was won by Nick.

The match was his.

Seiji pulled off his mask, his face revealed to be a sweaty twist of fury. Nick watched him retreat to the sidelines to grab up his water bottle violently and he felt a pang of wrongness about the whole scenario.

“Fuck. Me.”

Nick swiveled and found Harvard, Aiden, Eugene, and Coach Williams all holding masks under their arms, gathered around his and Seiji’s strip like they’d been watching. They must have been. Had they heard? Aiden unwittingly answered his question when he spoke again.

“What did you say to him, Cox? That was some superb mental sabotage,” Aiden was grinning broadly, a gleeful twinkle in his eye. “I’d love to get whatever ammo _you_ have. That was, dare I say it, epic. Mark the date! November fourteenth, two thousand and eighteen: the day our Zero became a hero.”

Nick didn’t share Aiden’s glee. He looked to the rest of his team, found consideration in both his captain and his couch’s faces. Maybe even judgment. He deserved the judgment. He—

“You sure that was a good idea, bro?” Eugene asked him, tipping his head meaningfully over at Seiji, still fuming against the wall with his water. _No,_ Nick thought, something like nausea rising in his stomach, up his throat, _I’m sure it wasn’t a good idea at all._


	13. Chapter 13

Seiji wouldn’t even look at Nick for the rest of practice. He’d been in such a fury that Coach Williams had called it a night forty minutes early, something she’d _never_ done before. Both Harvard and Aiden had been as shocked at the early dismissal as Nick’s first win against Seiji. _There’s no point if my team isn’t willing to work together,_ she’d said. Then she’d caught Nick by the shoulder, keeping him back as the others filed toward the showers. _Fix it,_ she’d told him.

_Fix it._

Nick wanted to. But he had a terrible feeling in every corner of his being that he couldn’t. He’d known—the whole fucking match, he’d _known_—it hadn’t been right. Nothing about it had felt right or good. It was all wrong and Nick was sure he’d ruined everything. He felt dirty. That wasn’t how—it wasn’t how he’d wanted it to be. He’d just…let his emotions overwhelm him.

The shower was hot enough to be close to scalding. Nick stayed in for as long as his skin could bear it, long after everyone else had left. He wasn’t anxious to get to room 108 and face Seiji. But the inevitable could only be put off for so long and he soon found himself in front of his door. He pushed it open with trepidation and slipped in. Seiji was already on his feet, paused as if in mid-stride. He looked every bit as pissed as Nick had feared.

“_That_ is not fencing,” Seiji said tightly. “You didn’t win—I refuse to acknowledge that cheap and offensive trick as anything but an embarrassment and a blemish to your character.”

“I—,”

“You knew you couldn’t win against me without stooping to such means as cheating—,”

“It’s not technically cheating,” Nick mumbled lamely. Seiji’s eyes flared. Then he shot an arm out to grab Nick. Stupidly, Nick expected a kiss. They’d resolved so many minor conflicts in that way, it was his first association now. But this wasn’t a minor conflict and logically, Nick knew he wasn’t likely to be kissed by Seiji ever again. So, by the time Seiji had a painful grip on him, Nick wasn’t expecting a kiss anymore. But neither was he expecting to be hurled onto Seiji’s bed with incredible force.

“And _that’s_ not technically assault,” Seiji raged. Nick was too stunned to do anything more than roll onto his back and pop an elbow under him to stare at Seiji. “As I was saying, you’re so pathetic, you knew you could never hope to beat me with your skill alone so you resorted to dirty, filthy, slimy cheating like the weasel you are. At least—at least _Aiden _admits that his style is as much about mind tricks as anything else but you’re always talking about how you want to be a better fencer. What you did today is _not_ how you become one.”

“I know.”

“And furthermore—what?”

“I said,” Nick sighed, fell back onto Seiji’s pillow and closed his eyes, “I know. You’re right. Everything you said. You’re right. I shouldn’t have won that match. I’m sorry I did.” The pillow’s scent was familiar, like it’d been freshly washed in Seiji’s detergent that somehow smelled so much better than any other detergent Nick had ever come across. It smelled a little like Seiji, too. Like his hair. Nick squeezed his eyes closed tighter. “I wish I hadn’t.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“No. I don’t know. But it’s the truth. I know it’s not an excuse but I didn’t want it to be like that either. The first time, you know? I wanted it to mean something. Like, I’d finally caught up to you. Now it’s all fucked up and wrong because I didn’t do it right. I cheated. It wasn’t real or genuine or important at all. It was just…mean. And slimy. And I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“Yeah,” Nick wasn’t sure what else he could say. “It’s none of my business about what you did or who you did it with and I shouldn’t have used that to win and—I broke it, didn’t I?”

“Broke what?” Seiji asked, sounding more and more baffled each time he spoke.

“Your trust. I just fucking threw it away for a meaningless victory I don’t even want.”

Seiji hummed noncommittally. It was a better answer than Nick had hoped for.

“I just don’t understand,” Seiji said, calmer but not without a hard warning still lurking in his voice, “of all the things to say, why _that?_ Why Jesse?”

“Exactly. Why Jesse? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’re obsessed with him. And it makes me—I can’t explain. It’s like Jesse…he’s got it all, doesn’t he? All my life, I’ve always wanted what he has. I’ve fought so hard to get it and I still fall short.”

“I don’t understand,” Seiji repeated.

“No,” Nick agreed. “You wouldn’t.” A crazy impulse hit Nick to explain. To actually and honestly make Seiji understand about Jesse. About Robert. About him. He’d never had that impulse hit so hard. Hard enough that he had to swallow the explanation before it exploded out of him. “Jesse has everything I want and I’m jealous. I’m so jealous of him and his life and his fencing lessons from his Olympian dad since he was old enough to hold an épée that I could scream. He has everything I want. Including you.” Sensing Seiji’s protests, Nick held a finger into the air above him, asking Seiji to hold that thought. “He’s the only person you consider a threat. A rival. You’re obsessed with him. Who’s to say he didn’t get to have you as a partner, too?” The thought quite literally haunted Nick. He hated it, shoved it away, couldn’t ever banish it. “And you don’t have to say. I’m not asking you to tell me what your deal is with him. I was just saying. _That’s_ ‘why Jesse.’ And why it gets to me whenever you say stuff about him like today.”

“Because he…always has what you want?”

“Yeah. And I wanted to get you back for bringing him up and I figured you’d hate it if I said what I did,” Nick wasn’t stupid enough to repeat any of his implications in detail. “If there’s one thing that can get you all worked up, it’s him.”

“Yes,” Seiji said dryly. “He’s the only boy that can get me..._worked up. _We’re in agreement, then, that today didn’t count?”

“Yes. Completely.”

Nick opened his eyes and propped himself back up, deeming Seiji’s ire as mostly passed. Nick was surprised to find him closer than he’d been before, right at the foot of the bed. He was still mad, arms crossed and eyebrows intensely pointed in displeasure.

“Good. Get off my bed.”

“Hey, you’re the one that put me here,” Nick protested with a laugh. He didn’t know why he was laughing, it wasn’t the right mood or situation to be laughing but now that they were done talking, Nick was finally processing being thrown across the room. “Shit, you’re strong,” he said, still laughing and still not moving from his place sprawled on Seiji’s bed.

“Yes, I’m aware. Did you forget?” Seiji asked, unimpressed.

“A little,” Nick confessed. It’d been a long time since Seiji had used his strength against Nick. And even then, the flying around they’d done in that storage room had been more of a joint effort. He hadn’t expected to be flung on a bed. It was kind of unfortunate that these were the circumstances it had happened under.

“Incredible. You are all kinds of stupid.”

That was true enough. Nick _was _all kinds of stupid. Especially about Seiji. But it was easy to forget how strong Seiji was when Nick had found him compliant and willing in so many ways these last weeks.

“Hey,” Nick said, sly voice matching sly smile. “Come here.”

The beckons was doomed to fail. Seiji was still mad. And even once he was done being actively mad, there was no getting around Nick’s shit manipulation of Seiji’s feelings today. _Fix it _was a tall order and Nick didn’t think he could. Coach would be happy with just this—all she’d wanted was for Seiji to calm down and be willing to work with Nick again. But Nick wanted more. And he was all kinds of stupid so here he was, trying too soon for it.

“If you _ever_ speak to me the way you did during that match again,” Seiji said harshly, withering Nick’s grin. He knew when he’d lost. “You’ll never be allowed to even _look _at me again, understood?”

Nick nodded and watched in amazement as Seiji did as he’d asked and _came here. _Seiji might have been able to throw Nick around with surprising ease, but Nick didn’t even need to lift a finger to move Seiji.

“And stop smiling like that,” Seiji ordered, climbing onto the bed and straddling Nick’s hips. “It’s pathetically obvious how badly you want me.”

“Can’t help it,” Nick said, grabbing Seiji’s collar and pulling him down. “You’re the best.”

Satisfied with Nick’s answer, Seiji folded easily. He kissed viciously at first, letting Nick know he wasn’t completely forgiven. But Nick wasn’t stopped when his hand wandered down Seiji’s curved spine to squeeze his ass. And he wasn’t stopped when the hand wandered back up Seiji’s spine, this time under his shirt. Seiji’s shoulders were full of tension and Nick took to teasing it out of them. Seiji liked that, enough to soften his kisses, allowing Nick to breathe again.

Seiji called Nick obvious but Seiji was worse. He wanted Nick—or at least wanted _this—_badly enough to agree to some level of forgiveness for Nick’s stunt today. It was staggering to Nick that he had so much weight in Seiji’s mind. A sort of importance, even. It made him regret his taunts even more.

With some effort, Nick sat up. It took effort because Seiji was heavy and still angry enough to be using that weight to push down on him. But Nick managed it, getting a hold under Seiji’s thighs to pull him tight against his body. He definitely, undeniably had a thing about Seiji’s legs, liked them best when they were pressed snuggly against him, holding him between them. _Or,_ he thought, remembering shivers and twitches and bare skin under his lips, _like that_. But he couldn’t have that and, miraculously, he _could _have this.

“Seiji,” he tried. Seiji pulled back from him with an exasperated sigh.

“Remember how I’ve told you I like you better when you’re not talking? Tonight it would behoove you to make yourself as likable as possible.”

“I—,”

“I can’t think of any more you could say that would benefit you at all. Quit while you’re ahead and stop wasting my time.”

That was the ticket, wasn’t it? Be happy with what you have and stop trying for more. Stop complaining when you couldn’t get it. Especially don’t waste Seiji’s time with it. That’s what had gotten Nick so mad last night. What had fueled his anger today. But that anger couldn’t touch him here, not when Seiji was giving him another chance.

“I know it’s stupid to you but it’s something more to me, fencing you. It’s like...when I fence you, I remember why I love it. You push me to be my best even if I can’t win. Yet. That’s why—that’s why it was supposed to be special the first time.” Nick buried his face in Seiji’s chest. As always, he wasn’t stopped from this sort of affection but he wasn’t encouraged either. It couldn’t be anything but bad news that he was starting to find comfort in Seiji’s unyielding posture and tensed muscles. “When I beat you, when I finally got past your guard, it was supposed to mean I was the fencer I want to be.”

“You’re not terribly patient, are you?” Seiji asked. Then he sighed again. “You played dirty today. But what’s worse is that it worked.”

Was Seiji actually admitting to his breakdown? In Nick’s experience, he always refused to acknowledge anything had happened after Aiden stirred him up.

“I’m incredibly skilled at what I do,” Seiji continued. “I never worry my technique will fail me. Everyone I fence is a threat—if you stop acknowledging others as a threat, it makes you sloppy. But I don’t worry about losing very much. The others might be good. They might be great or phenomenal. But I’m better. Which is why I can’t stand it that I keep losing to fencers that are nowhere near my caliber.”

Usually, Nick would snort or call Seiji out for his pomp. It still stung a bit to be so casually called a low-caliber fencer but it made him feel better to know that Aiden was included in that. Possibly, Jesse Coste was too. It was hard to tell with Seiji. Nick kept quiet tonight because Seiji was talking to him. Actually _talking. _The sort of talking that meant there was something important to be said. And Seiji had decided to say it to Nick. So he shut up and he listened.

“There are things that I don’t know how to tune out. And then I feel them take hold and I get so _angry _and there’s nowhere for it to go. I can feel myself slipping and that only makes it worse because I get mad that it’s working, that I can’t stop it, that I’m going to lose because I don’t have the self-control to keep the anger from taking over and ruining everything.”

“That sounds kinda like me,” Nick said, hoping not to get immediately shut down for offering his perspective. Seiji didn’t say anything. “Like how I get caught up thinking about technique and everything I’m doing wrong. It gets me all mixed up and I can feel it when I start to spiral like that. It happens mostly when I’m nervous. But I just gotta get out of my head and it’s better. And _you_ need to stop letting people _into _your head.”

“Haven’t I just said? I’ve _tried.”_

“Then figure out which things you can’t ignore and think about why. Maybe there’s something you can do to counter it.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Nick said as he pulled away from Seiji’s chest to look at him. “But obviously just knowing what your opponent is up to isn’t helping you. Maybe if all the things you lose it over are lies, you can dismiss them because you know they aren’t true and your opinion is the one that matters most. Or if they are true, you could work through why you hate it being said by someone else so much. Or if it’s true but they twisted it all up, you could just hold onto the true version of it, you know? Maybe it’s not really what’s being said but _why_ it is that’s bothering you. Like when people look down on me because I’m one of the four scholarship students, I don’t let it bug me because, yeah, I worked hard to get here and I’m working hard to stay here and _they’re _all only here because their mommies and daddies are throwing money at this school. And which is more impressive? It’s like that. Don’t let people twist stuff just to make you feel bad. I don’t know if that helps at all. Sorry. I’m shit at advice. You should ask Eugene.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“I don’t think so either.”

“I’ll try it,” Seiji said. “Your advice.”

“Cool. Let me know how it goes. And one more thing, maybe don’t start shit-talking on the strip,” Nick suggested lightly.

“I don’t. I never do.”

“Really? Because you’re always starting shit with me.” Seiji frowned, his brow creasing in something like confusion. “You can’t try to tell me you don’t, _you’re _the one that started it today.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” Seiji asked, frown only growing more pronounced. “But that’s different. You don’t count.”

“I thought I was just like everyone else,” Nick couldn’t help but say, leaning into Seiji with something of a victorious grin. Sure, being the only person Seiji enjoyed insulting while they fenced wasn’t exactly the distinction he’d been hoping for, but he’d take it.

“You might be somewhat special,” Seiji admitted, hands running down Nick’s sides, finding a grip at his hips and pulling himself even snugger against Nick. “You’ve got a special talent for annoying me.”

Nick laughed, not surprised at the modification and not even upset by it. This was _Seiji_ he was talking to, after all. Seiji would never just tell Nick he was special like that and Nick wouldn’t know what to do with it if he did. And it was true that Nick was especially good at pissing Seiji off. But he had other talents as well, and he used them now, getting back to the kissing he’d interrupted against Seiji’s advice.

He snuck a hand up Seiji’s shirt again, crept it up his chest and brushed fingers over a mark he hadn’t gotten around to checking yet but was certain was still there. Seiji shifted against him and it felt so damn good after almost a week without anything. After thinking he’d never get anything again. Nick could tell that he wasn’t the only one that’d been wanting this for days. Seiji was feeling good too. That was one of Nick’s talents—making Seiji feel good enough to keep coming back for more.

The fingers at Nick’s hips curled around the hem of his shirt and Seiji tugged at it, more assertive than he usually was during these things but Nick wasn’t complaining. At least, not until Seiji paused with Nick’s shirt bunched in his hands, bringing them to a dead stop.

“You’re not going to make me wait while you fold _my_ shirt, are you?” Nick asked, a little amused and a little exasperated. It hadn’t come off before; Nick had always been more concerned with getting _Seiji_ undressed than with his own clothes. Seiji glared and tossed the shirt very pointedly over to Nick’s side of their room.

“I’m not your maid,” he said crossly.

“God, I hope not. Otherwise, this would be a terrible abuse of my power over you as your employer.”

Seiji was poised to say something back, either witty or scathing or both, no doubt. But his features fell into soft surprise and his retort was all but forgotten. Nick couldn’t fathom why until Seiji’s fingers brushed carefully against his chest.

“That’s a lot of bruises,” he said, “more than is typical.”

“Oh, yeah,” Nick said, looking down at his torso with mild surprise. He supposed there was a lot of bruised skin there but it was so typical for him that he’d stopped noticing it much. “I mean, I _am_ your usual fencing partner,” Nick shrugged, not caring too much about it and wanting to get back to the sort of conversation that didn’t use words. But Seiji seemed disinterested in that now, fingers absently grazing over Nick’s chest, whisper-soft. It was the softness of the touch that made Nick shiver under it. Seiji wasn’t the type to offer touches like this, not usually. Not ever, that Nick could think of.

“Seiji,” Nick said, meaning to regain his attention. Seiji ignored him. Nick wanted very much to grab Seiji’s face and drag his lips up for a kiss. But before he could act on it, _Seiji_ kissed _him_, just not in any way Nick had expected. Warm lips pressed with care against one of the scattered bruises Seiji had put on Nick at some point in the last week or so. And then they found another bruise and another and Nick had the crazy thought that Seiji intended to kiss every last bruise on him.

“Seiji,” Nick said again, this time hooking a hand under Seiji’s chin and bringing him up to eye-level. “It’s fine, I don’t mind them.”

“I’m sorry, even so,” Seiji replied, serious and achingly sincere. Nick wasn’t prepared for this. Wasn’t sure what to do with this Seiji that offered sweet touches and careful kisses and apologies for things Nick wasn’t even upset over. There wasn’t a script for moments like these and Nick had never been great at improvising. He was too prone to saying whatever came to his mind.

“Why bother being sorry?” Nick asked but not with any malice or accusation. “You’ll just add to them tomorrow.” Nick knew it to be true and so did Seiji. It was a long moment that passed between them, Seiji’s dark eyes staring into his with something Nick couldn’t name.

“Tomorrow, I’ll add to them,” Seiji agreed eventually, voice hardly even a whisper. “But tonight, I’m sorry.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Nick!”

Whirling around to answer the call, Nick was a little surprised to find Tristin instead of Bobby. Most of the time, such an enthusiastic bid for his attention came from Bobby but, today, it had come from Tristin. Nick grinned, raised a hand in greeting, and waited for Tristin to catch up. Beside him, Seiji huffed, irritated at the interruption. Nick didn’t know why Seiji didn’t just continue on to the gym without him but he didn’t point out that it was an option in case Seiji decided it was a good one and left him behind.

“Hey, Tristin, where’s the skateboard?”

“I don’t skate everywhere I go,” Tristin said.

“Who confiscated it?”

“Who do you think? None other than Madame Principal herself. Plowed her over in the hall yesterday.”

“You’ll be lucky if you ever see it again.”

“Don’t say that,” Tristin made a pained expression that wasn’t entirely for show. Nick patted his back consolingly.

“We’ll break into her office and steal it if she doesn’t return it in a timely manner.”

“Thanks, man. Hey, you free tonight?”

“That desperate for your board?”

“Not yet, I won’t start going through withdrawals until tomorrow at the earliest. Tonight, me and some guys were going to The Lounge for one of those concerts with all the cool local music. I was telling you about them the other day, remember?”

“Yeah, they sound fun.”

“They are. You should come.”

“Dude, I’m there,” Nick agreed right away.

“Rad,” Tristin smiled wide and took off after a high-five.

“Stop standing around like an idiot,” Seiji said when Tristin was well on his way. “We’ll be late for practice at this rate.”

“Stop being such a grumpy-pants,” Nick replied brightly. “We’ll still get there with time to spare.”

* * *

“Stay in tonight,” Seiji said across the curtain. Nick shot a look at it but, of course, couldn’t see the speaker through it.

“What?”

“I know Tristin invited you out to that concert thing. Tell him you can’t go.”

“Why?”

“Use your brain, Nicholas,” Seiji scathed. “Why do you think?”

“Because…you want to spend the night kissing?”

“Bravo. So tell Tristin you’re busy.”

“But I like hanging with Tristin,” Nick protested.

“You’ve run off with him every night this week.” Not entirely true, Eugene and Bobby had gotten as many nights as Tristin had. “And I thought you liked having your tongue in my mouth. But if listening to indie music with a bunch of Tristin’s skater friends is more appealing, fine.”

“You’re acting like a real brat, you realize that, right?” Even to his own ears, Nick’s voice sounded wanting. Seiji didn’t miss it. More likely, he’d never doubted it.

“For whatever reason, you find it attractive when I request things of you. Especially when I’m…petulant about it.”

Damn it, did he? He did, didn't he?

“You’re such a snobgoblin,” Nick told the curtain. “So full of yourself in every way and over everything. And you expect me to just throw out my plans because you asked me to. You think I’ll just do whatever you want because you’re such hot shit, how could I say no? But do you know why I like it when you act like a self-important brat? Because I like breaking that and making you turn all sweet and shivery instead.”

“So,” Seiji said, and Nick could hear the smugness in the single syllable, which wasn’t really what he’d been aiming for. “You find me attractive no matter what I do.”

“How’d you get that?” Nick asked. Then, “Fuck, you're right. That's what I just said, isn't it?”

“Yes. But don't feel bad, I already knew that.”

“You think you're something special.”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “But so do you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Seiji appeared at the edge of the curtain, looking like the cat that’d caught the canary. “So? Are you going out tonight?”

“You know I’m not,” Nick said, nabbing Seiji by the belt loops and tugging him closer.

He’d have to text Tristin to cancel but that would have to wait for a bit longer, right now Nick was preoccupied with the boy standing between his legs and looking down at him with infuriating self-satisfaction. Nick slid his hands up Seiji’s sides, hitching up his shirt in the process. Seiji made a sound of anticipation, eager to be touched. His bratty request had already proven that but Nick suspected it had been made to prove that Nick was every bit as eager for this as it had been for anything else. It wasn’t playing fair but it was hard to care about anything beyond the taut stomach and the subtle V created by muscle that disappeared into pants. Nick could see the band of Seiji’s Calvin Kleins peeking out and had the thought to expose them completely. He thought better of it—and the other flurry of ideas and desires that had come with it—deciding that it would be _too much_. Too close to more than just kissing.

Nick pressed lips to Seiji’s stomach, which was conveniently right in front of him. He dragged his mouth over to a hip and kissed his way as far down as was possible. Seiji’s hands were tight on his shoulders, fingers digging deeper with each new kiss.

“At least,” Nick said after kissing his way back up as far as he could reach from this position, “you’re a _sexy_ snobgoblin.”

“Keep that up and you might as well go to that concert,” Seiji warned.

“Then my plan’s working.” Nick shouldn’t have opened his dumb mouth, he knew the joke had hit wrong by the way Seiji’s muscles tensed. Seiji broke free of Nick, neatly stepping away and turning to leave. Whether he was actually offended or just irritated at Nick for talking again, despite Seiji’s frequent reminders that he liked him better quiet, it was hard to tell.

Nick didn’t let Seiji get very far, grabbing a handful of his jeans and hauling him backward almost as soon as he’d turned away. The maneuver didn’t go exactly how Nick had expected. Seiji tumbled far more easily than Nick had anticipated and he careened back into the bed Nick was sitting on and then _kept_ careening, landing heavy on Nick’s lap before toppling even more, falling flat on his back on the bed, legs hooked over Nick’s and eyes losing the wideness of surprise to narrow into a fierce glare.

Laughing would only make the glare meaner so Nick kept his mouth shut for once. When he bent over to kiss Seiji, he wasn’t shoved away, although Seiji didn’t immediately grab onto him, either. That was just as well. With another little kiss, Nick pushed himself upright.

“Stay there,” he said, patting around for his phone. He shot an apologetic text off to Tristin with a promise to make it up to him, then tossed the phone back on his bed carelessly. Seiji watched the whole time, not moving until Nick leaned back over him. He wasn’t even all the way situated before Seiji’s arms were moving for him. It startled him a little when cold hands pressed directly against his back. This was new, Seiji’s interest in it only having appeared since the night of their big fight. Or maybe Seiji’d had interest for longer and just wasn’t as quick to test boundaries as Nick always was. It didn’t really matter. Either way, Nick liked it; the sensation of Seiji’s hands up his shirt, nails dragging pleasantly down his back, _and_ the idea that Seiji was actively interested in touching him, the same way Nick was interested in touching Seiji.


	15. Chapter 15

Theoretically, Nick was looking for a book to read for English. Which translated into reality in way of wandering up and down aisles of books, brushing fingertips across spines, and reading absolutely none of the titles he touched. His thoughts were full of Seiji, which wasn’t an unfamiliar distraction to him, and when given the choice to replay last night in his head or focus back on schoolwork, it was a no-brainer.

“Yo,” Tristin appeared at his side, as unassuming as ever with his hands in his pockets and his hair tucked haphazardly behind ears that dripped in chains.

“Hey,” Nick greeted, remembering the way last night was _meant _to have played out. He felt bad and it must have shown on his face because Tristin laughed—much too loudly for a library but Nick wasn’t Seiji so he didn’t point it out or mind it.

“Don’t sweat it about The Lounge, they hold concerts all the time. Promise you’ll come to the next one and we’ll call it even.”

“I promise,” Nick agreed eagerly, “for real, short of death, I’ll be there.”

“No way, Nick, death’s not getting you out of this. I expect to see your ghost there without your sorry sack of bones even if that roommate of yours murders you.”

“This sorry sack of bones could beat your sorry sack of bones up.”

“But it won’t.”

“But it won’t. And Seiji’s not the one I’m worried about offing me.”

“Really? He looked ready to kill _something_ yesterday morning. You might be in danger just from proximity.”

“Nah, Seiji’s a sweetheart.” They both got a laugh out of that. Seiji and sweetheart weren’t synonymous. Although, it could almost be considered sweet how Seiji had requested Nick stay with him. Even closer to sweet was how Seiji had quietly admitted _I’m glad you stayed_ and let Nick keep him in bed, pulled up against his chest for several minutes even after the kissing had slowed to a complete stop.

“Uh oh,” Tristin sang, once again interrupting Nick’s thoughts. “I think I recognize that look.”

“What look?”

“The one on your face, duh.”

“When’s the next Lounge thing?” Nick asked.

“A buddy of mine, Morgan,” Tristin said, ignoring Nick’s question. “He had a guy over the summer that wasn’t any good. You know the type, more concerned with himself than with my friend. Stoic and tight-lipped about emotions, the whole deal, Morgan was crazy over him. But the guy only ever wanted one thing from him, no more, no less, and I kept telling Morgan, you know, some boys just aren’t worth it. He might be hot as hell and a great kisser but when somebody’s wrapped themselves up in so many layers of mystery and disinterest, it’s not your job to go trying to find the good under all that crap. Some people would let you do all the heavy lifting and not give you anything in return.”

Nick abandoned his feigned interest in books, setting all his attention on Tristin.

“Maybe Morgan wasn’t trying to get through those layers at all,” Nick snapped, “maybe Morgan was putting more layers on this guy instead, trying to make him into something he’s not because of _his_ expectations. Maybe you got a one-sided story from someone who got hurt because they built up this guy to be something he’s not and was disappointed when he couldn’t deliver. _Maybe _you don’t know anything about Seiji and you shouldn’t pretend you do just because your buddy got his feelings hurt.”

To his credit, Tristin handled Nick’s explosion well. His shock melted to a placating smile and his hands rose in surrender.

“You’re right, I don’t know the dude,” Tristin said, not upset at Nick’s tirade or defensive of his position. Seiji would call him weak-willed but Nick appreciated this about Tristin. Tristin started up walking, slow and meandering, fingers tracing along spines much like Nick’s had. “I’m just saying. I like you, Nick, and it’d be a bummer if your expectations were as far-fetched as Morgan’s.”

“I—,”

“Oh, whoops.”

Tristin had run out of books, turning down the next aisle a step before Nick did. It was obvious as soon as Nick joined him what his _oh, whoops_ was referring to. Seiji stood in the aisle, a book cracked open in his hands. He might have been reading it at one point but he wasn’t now. Nick would bet he hadn’t been reading it since he and Tristin had stopped just about exactly on the other side of the wall of books. The volume snapped shut and Seiji tucked it back where it belonged—Nick only knew it had been put back exactly in place because that was who Seiji was as a person. Then Seiji swept past them with a killer glare and an icy chill.

“I think _I’m_ the one that’s gonna be a ghost at the next concert,” Tristin said, his expression one of stunned mortification. “He’s already got some kind of grudge against me and now I’ve gone and given him a reason for it.”

“He does not,” Nick answered automatically. “Okay, so, yeah, he’s pissed _now_ but you’ve never done anything to him before, have you?”

“No way,” Tristin shook his head, “I know better, he’s got a mean reputation. I mean—,” Tristin glanced over at Nick, “I’m sure he’s a stand up guy once you get to know him?”

That made Nick laugh. “He’s pretty alright.”

“Hey, we still on for The Lounge?”

“Text me when, and I’m there,” Nick confirmed, itching to go after Seiji. “Talk to you later, ‘kay?”

“Sure thing. Good luck.”

* * *

Seiji was in their room. It wasn’t exactly hard to track Seiji down, he never left campus. If classes were out of session and no meals were taking place, Seiji could be found fencing, working out, or back here, in their room. _Or,_ Nick thought with a wince, _in the library._ If he’d had any idea where his and Tristin’s conversation would go today, Nick wouldn’t have had it in the library, that was for sure.

Although Seiji didn’t look pleased, Nick had seen worse. He hoped never to see Seiji’s worst again, was pretty sure it could be avoided since it had taken considerable effort to make him that mad.

“About Tristin,” Nick said cautiously, gauging the extent of Seiji’s mood. “He wasn’t trying to—,”

“You don’t need to do that,” Seiji snapped. Angry. And something else. Tristin’s earnest recount of what must have been Seiji’s summer romance—one of Seiji’s summer romances?—had echoed some of the things Nick had used to con a win from Seiji. The more Nick thought about it, the more he worried that Seiji’s anger on that occasion might have been fueled by something else. Seiji didn’t wear hurt well, it all came off as anger. It made it hard to tell, sometimes, how something had affected him.

“I know,” Nick said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “But he’s my friend. He said something stupid but he didn’t mean anything—,”

“No,” Seiji cut him off again, “I mean you don’t need to go making excuses for me to other people. I’m perfectly capable of handling criticisms myself. I don’t need you to say unnecessary things.”

“You can tell me that,” Nick said slowly, watching for Seiji to cut him off a third time, “but I don’t think I can stop. I can’t ever stop from saying unnecessary things, you know that.”

Seiji smiled. It was a tiny, fleeting thing, gone as quickly as Seiji had realized it had broken through. Nick smiled too, not tiny or fleeting. He pushed into the room a little more, toward Seiji.

“I can’t just let people think you’re actually the worst when you’re not,” Nick continued, brushing a hand along Seiji’s silky hair.

“I remember Morgan,” Seiji said. As always when thoughts of Seiji’s _past experience _cropped up, something in Nick fidgeted with displeasure. But he didn’t let it get the best of him. “I wasn’t any nicer to him than I am to you.”

“You’re pretty nice to me. Most the time. And I stand by what I said to Tristin anyway. You’re not the only one at fault for however that relationship went down.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m sure I do. Everyone looks at you and expects you to be a certain way. I expected you to be mean all the way down but you’re not. Others expect you to be some sort of stoic prince but you’re not. That’s what I think Morgan did. I think he looked at you and thought you’d be sweet with him just because you were kissing him and was disappointed when you didn’t change at all. But that’s just how you are—or how you aren’t, I guess. It’s not fair for people to want you to open up or change for them and, yeah, I’m sure you were an asshole. But Tristin’s wrong. You’re not one of those boys that’s _not worth it, _okay? You’ve got a lot of layers but anyone that doesn’t have the patience for them is stupid. And anyone that doesn’t like what they get after they’re all off is even stupider.”

It felt like there was still something left to be said but Nick couldn’t name it. Seiji’s eyes were wide and it softened his face. So did his lips, which were parted just slightly. Nick shaped his hand around Seiji’s cheek, thumb brushing softly into hair. He was about to take Seiji’s unusually softened lips with his when Seiji’s eyebrows suddenly came together in confusion before hardening into familiar, disapproving strikes cutting across his face.

“Everyone looks at me and expects me to be a certain way,” Seiji repeated, but his voice was harsh. “But you know better, isn’t that right? I’m—what did you say last night? _Sweet and shivery._ You think it never worked out before because—what? Nobody thought to shove me into walls all the time? No one ever tried to kiss my thighs? You think you know me just because you know how to kiss me? You don’t know anything. You don’t even know anything about _yourself._ And I’m tired of being the testing dummy while you figure yourself out.”

Seiji tore away from him, leaving Nick reeling. He wasn’t following Seiji’s logic at all, didn’t understand how anything connected or why half of it had come up.

“Did I—?” Nick started, then shook himself out of his stunned state and edged over to Seiji’s side of the room. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked. Seiji was pulling out his sports bag. That was never a good sign.

“No,” Seiji said curtly, standing upright, bag on his shoulder. “I’m just bored of this. Go kiss some other boy, I’m done.”

“I don’t understand,” Nick said, following Seiji back to the door. “Why?”

But he didn’t get an answer. Just a slammed door in his face.


	16. Chapter 16

“You good?” Tristin leaned close to Nick’s ear but still had to raise his voice close to a shout to be heard.

“Totally,” Nick replied, trying to pull himself out of his funk.

“Did I—,”

“Huh? I can’t hear you.”

Tristin grabbed his arm and dragged him off towards the front of the venue. The back? Whichever part was closest to the door and farthest from the music. It wasn’t a huge difference in noise but without all the other bodies pressing in around them and the layers of voices from the crowd mixing directly into his ears, it made Nick feel more aware. Like he could see and hear and think a little bit better. Tristin still had a hand clasped around his arm and, outside the focused beams of multi-colored light, Nick saw that he looked worried.

“You good?” Nick asked.

“Totally,” Tristin parroted back at him, smiling briefly.

“What’s up?”

“Did I mess things up for you? With your layered roommate?”

“What?”

“You’ve been deader on your feet than I am without my board. And, unless I’m very much mistaken, your raincloud found you on Sunday after our little talk.”

“What?” Nick said again, but this time with a laugh. “You’re worried about that? I’m touched, but you didn’t do anything. I mean, Seiji and I weren’t like that. We aren’t anything.”

“You sure about that? Sounded to me like he was _something _to you.”

“He’s my teammate,” Nick offered. “I guess he’s my friend? But there’s nothing there, not how you think. Never was.” Whatever _nothing_ had been there was gone now, Seiji’s conviction had not wavered. But it wasn’t Tristin’s fault. Nick wasn’t exactly sure what had happened to flip Seiji so completely—Saturday night, he’d enticed Nick into spending the night with him instead of going out. And then Sunday morning he’d called it quits. Because…because Nick’s friend had warned him against catching feelings? Because Nick had said unnecessary things back in Seiji’s defense? Because Nick had accidentally implied that he understood Seiji at all? None of those things, by Nick’s estimation, constituted calling it quits. There’d been plenty of stuff before then that would have made more sense to end it over. As it was, Nick was left confused and unsatisfied with Seiji’s vague reasoning and Seiji was pretending none of it had ever happened. If he didn’t ignore Nick, he shut him down right away.

“If it’s not Seiji, then what is it? Eisler can’t confiscate your swords, can she?”

“Épées,” Nick corrected absently. “And no. Well. Not usually. Apparently she took Eugene’s last year when he challenged his English teacher to a duel for a better grade. Dunno why he had his épée in English class but that’s how the story goes.”

“Sounds fun. Did he get the grade?”

“Only because Kingsley thought it was funny. But Eisler didn’t see the humor.”

“She never does. Hey,” Tristin’s smile fell and Nick noticed that he’d let go of his again too. “I know I made you promise to come here but if you’re not feeling it tonight, you can leave.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” Nick shouldered Tristin. He’d gotten used to Eugene, though, so the move sent Tristin lurching to the side. Nick caught an arm, laughing as he steadied him. “Aren’t you supposed to have, like, great balance from skating?”

“Didn’t we agree you weren’t gonna beat me up?” Tristin shot back, also laughing.

“Yeah, whatever. I caught you, didn’t I?”

“Fair enough. So what’s it gonna be? You ready to head out,” he jerked a thumb at the door, “or head back in?” This time, Tristin thumbed back over to the crowd.

Nick contemplated. If he left, it would just mean wallowing alone until he went back to his dorm to receive the silent treatment. So he grabbed Tristin’s arm and propelled them back into the crowd, earning a whoop of appreciation from Tristin.

* * *

“You look like shit.”

_“Somebody_ kept me out all night,” Nick replied, recognizing Tristin’s voice even before he caught up to Nick, whose pace had automatically slowed to accommodate his friend.

“So you’re a shit that had a lot of fun last night,” Tristin said and Nick smiled, a little tired; he hadn’t gotten much sleep even after their late return from The Lounge.

“And how’s my partner in shit doing this morning?”

“Shit’s starting to sound like a fake word, we’ve used it too much in too short a time.”

“You started this shit.”

“Stop that, you’re turning it even faker.”

“Shit,” Nick said brightly. Tristin shoved him, laughing when it didn’t throw him off at all.

“Good balance from fencing?” He asked.

“More like from my team. I’ve got a friend on it that’ll bowl you over if you can’t roll with his special way of showing he cares. Which just means arm punches, shoving, knuckle rubs, and wrestling. In case you were confused.”

“Is that the one that got his sword taken?”

“You know it.”

“He sounds fun.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty cool.”

“Can I meet him?”

Nick looked over at Tristin, walking painfully slowly with his hands in his faded jean’s pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world. Nick had never had someone ask to meet one of his friends before. But Tristin didn’t seem to think it was an odd request at all.

“You don’t need my permission to meet Eugene,” Nick said. “But I’ll introduce you sometime if you’d like.” Though Nick wasn’t sure when that time might be; Tristin wasn’t in the fencing scene and the skating scene was one of the few Eugene _wasn’t_ a part of. “You’d probably get along,” he mused aloud. Both of them played well with others.

“Sweet.”

Nick expected Tristin to break off as they approached the double doors to the fencing gym but he didn’t, following Nick into them as easily as Bobby would have.

“I didn’t think you were interested in fencing,” Nick said, Tristin shrugged, smile edging on mischievous.

“I’m not super interested in _fencing_,” he agreed. “But it’s open practice today, yeah? I wanna watch. See some of that balance of yours being put to use.”

“Just stay against the wall,” Nick advised. “Williams _will_ make you do suicides if you stray at all, don’t think you can get away with it just because Bobby can. I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”

“Always looking out for me,” Tristin adjusted his trajectory, aiming for the wall where a gaggle of Aiden’s boys chittered away. “I appreciate it.”

“I’m a knight in shining armor, I know.”

“I thought your armor was white? And made of cloth. Not quite as cool as full medieval knight’s armor.”

“Go glue your ass to the wall, I’m done talking with you.”

“If you say so. Go kick ass. Or stab ass? Whatever it is you do in your un-shining armor.”

Nick gave Tristin a very fond one-fingered salute before peeling away from his path and heading instead for the locker rooms to get ready for the day. Seiji was there, but so was Aiden. The other two were already dressed and ready to fence. Nick was glad for Aiden’s presence in the room. It gave an excuse for Seiji’s cold shoulder. They’d never talked when other people were around, not in any sort of real way. Even when they got along in private just fine, public niceties hadn’t been their norm so this felt typical. Nick kind of liked to pretend that if Aiden weren’t there, he might have been able to garner some sort of attention from Seiji.

Nick caught Tristin’s eye as he came back out to join the others and could practically hear the quip about his attire just from the smirk on Tristin’s face.

“That one yours?” Eugene asked.

“What?” Nick hadn’t been paying attention. Eugene bobbed his head over at Tristin.

“So it’s you and skater boy now, is it?”

“Shove off.” Nick kept his face neutral but nothing could discourage Eugene. Nick saw him look over at Seiji, who stood close enough he could probably hear everything if he cared to, then back to Nick, and over to Tristin again.

“Huh,” he said, momentarily intrigued. Then he made a face like _oh well, none of my business_ and left it alone. Seiji didn’t even look over, as uninterested in Nick as ever. Which was fine. They’d never been anything. Seiji had just been a convenient boy to kiss and so had Nick. That was all.

They started with drills. Seiji performed them all perfectly, as per usual. The control he had over his body and his blade was insane. Nick had seen him run through drills a thousand times. In the morning, he’d often run through similar exercises to those Williams ran him through today, but those were done in t-shirts that displayed at least some of the muscles Seiji commanded so precisely. Many mornings had been made less productive, watching Seiji. Watching how every move he made was intentional and controlled and way more impressive than they had any right to be. The fencing jacket didn’t show the strain and flex of muscle but Seiji was still a sight to behold.

All through practice, Nick watched. He’d been doing a lot of watching since he’d landed with Seiji in this school. So the watching wasn’t really unusual, but he had gotten used to a certain amount of touching, too. And that had changed the watching, in a way. Turned it more wanting, more active, more intimate. Nick wasn’t adjusting well to the prospect of never touching again, never making those perfectly controlled muscles shiver, or just feeling their solidity against his hand. Being constrained to watching was frustrating but that was to be expected. He’d get over it.

It was a relief to fence Seiji today, just as it had been every time since their thing had ended. Nick had worried that it would be different somehow. Devoid of passion, maybe. If Seiji was cutting him off, who was to say he wouldn’t cut _this_ off too? That sort of thinking had been stupid from the start. Seiji couldn’t turn off his passion for fencing anymore than Nick could, no matter if they were always fighting, kissing, or ignoring each other when they were alone and without épées. Even so, Nick had felt it like a weight off his chest when Seiji hadn’t refused to fence him on Monday, when it had been just as it always was. The hits stung a little bit harder now but not because Seiji was actually hitting him any harder.

When practice was dismissed for the day, Tristin didn’t wait to be fetched before wandering over to Nick.

“I’ve got to admit,” he said when he arrived, “you looked pretty cool today. Even without shining armor.”

“Aww,” Eugene appeared next to Nick, using his shoulder as an armrest as though Nick were the shorter one between them. “Did my Nicky get a new fan?”

Before Nick could answer, Tristin replied in that mellow way he had, like he really couldn’t be bothered with what was being said or how it might be taken. “You could say that. I _am_ good at blowing.”

The joke took a minute to hit because of Tristin’s tone but when it did, Eugene howled, withdrawing his arm from Nick’s shoulder to double over in laughter.

“Oh, I like this one, Nick. You can keep him, he seems less annoying than Aiden’s fans.”

“That’s a low bar.” The twittering of Aiden’s entourage was audible, proving the point. Then, remembering his offer to introduce Tristin to Eugene, Nick got to it. They talked for a time, getting on as naturally as Nick had predicted, only stopping when Eugene was summoned by some other friends.

The gym had emptied to near completion. Williams and Lewis lingered, speaking over a pad of notes in a corner. And Seiji had hung back too, he was taking a water break but by the looks of it, he planned to continue practicing on his own. Nick had kept track of him the whole time he’d been talking with Eugene and Tristin—habit or compulsion, he couldn’t tell. Either way, it needed to be broken.

“I’m impressed you stayed the whole time,” Nick said honestly to Tristin.

“I told you, swords and shit. Cool stuff. Not my shit, but still cool shit. Don’t think I’ll come every Saturday, though, I _do_ have a life.”

“Since when? Hey,” an idea struck Nick as he watched his Coaches vacate the room, “do you want to give it a try?”

“What? Fencing?”

“Yeah. Just for a laugh. You can’t be any worse at it than I am at skating.”

“That is very true.” Tristin looked around the gym and the spare épées hung on its walls. “Would that even be allowed?”

“Probably.”

Besides, there was no one to stop them. Although, it looked for a moment like Seiji might try once he’d seen what they were up to. But he stalked across the gym instead, as far away from them as it was possible to get.

“He’s in a black mood,” Tristin whispered, probably remembering the last time he’d been in close proximity with Seiji and thinking the tension was all his fault. That was absolutely a part of it, but Tristin couldn’t claim all the blame for himself, most of it was Nick’s.

Nick wished—not for the first time, but for the first time in a while—that Seiji would leave the gym. Not only was his ‘black mood’ seeping across the room and making Tristin fidget uncomfortably, but he was also a distraction. Black mood or not, Nick’s entire body was tuned into him: his ears would prick to hear the scuffs of Seiji’s sneakers across wood floor, his head would tilt or turn just enough to let his eyes catch a glimpse of the blue sneakers producing the sound and the boy who wore them.

“I got you!” Tristin hooted and he was right, his blade was still held where it had landed. “I thought you were supposed to be good at this.”

“Really? Why? I’m sure I never said that.” Nick nudged Tristin’s blade off him, unable to be anything but amused to have let Tristin get him so easily. He’d have to pay better attention but his mind was already leaving this conversation to focus on Seiji.

“Uh, you’re on the fuckin’ team, man,” Tristin said, falling into a horrible stance. Nick couldn’t tell if he’d done it on purpose to be comical or if he seriously thought _that_ was how you were meant to fence. “Being good at fencing comes with the territory of being on the team. _And_ I already told you you were great today. I expected more from you.”

“Maybe I’m going easy on you because you're a noob.” He couldn’t help from smiling at the compliment, though. People didn’t usually call him cool or great at fencing. Tristin wasn’t in this world so he couldn’t see all of Nick’s faults. It was kind of nice.

“Noob? Really, Nick? What are we? A couple of twelve-year-olds playing _Call of Duty?”_

“If you don’t want to be called a noob you need to stop looking like one. Here—,” Nick corrected Tristin’s posture gently, edged his feet in line, and straightened out his grip. “That’s better.”

This time, Nick fought the urge to keep half of his attention from trailing hopelessly after Seiji. Tristin was a fun fencing partner, if not a skilled one. He didn’t push Nick in any of the ways his teammates did, but he found that teaching Tristin the basics pushed him in different ways. And Tristin never grew frustrated, letting Nick keep him there fencing much longer than Nick had lasted at the skate park. He was so enthusiastic whenever he got a hit that Nick really did go easy on him, just to see his face light up like that.

When they finally called it a day, Tristin wanted burgers and Nick hadn’t been hard to convince to go with him.

“I’ll treat,” Tristin called as Nick put away their stuff. “Your prize for winning.”

“Damn, that’s a nice prize,” Nick tossed over his shoulder, “you should fence with me every Saturday, I don’t care if you have a life outside of me.”

“Nick watch—,” Tristin was already cringing by the time Nick walked right into Seiji, sending three blades clattering to the floor.

“Fuck!” The word escaped him in surprise.

“Watch where you’re going,” Seiji snapped, retrieving his blade and inspecting it closely.

“You could have just moved out of the way,” Nick picked up his dropped burdens as well, standing back up to find Seiji’s glare fixed on him. “You _could_ have, you move fast enough to have dodged in time.”

“_You_ should have been looking in front of you instead of behind you,” Seiji reiterated. “That’s how walking generally works, Nicholas.”

“Whatever. Sorry for running into you. Even though you totally let me just so you could yell at me about it.”

“I’m not yelling,” Seiji’s jaw shifted in a way that suggested he was working very hard to keep that statement true. And his face was a little flushed from some combination of anger and a long day of fencing.

“Whatever.” Nick didn’t let himself get pulled into staring at Seiji’s jawline or his flushed face or his tousled hair. He stepped around Seiji to continue on his mission of returning the épées to their proper places.

Somehow, Nick had almost forgotten that Seiji was here too. Somewhere along the way, he’d found himself watching Tristin more than he’d been watching Seiji.


	17. Chapter 17

“Don’t you think we should talk about it?” Nick had cornered Seiji before just like this, the locker room deserted apart from them, Nick’s body blocking the only exit. This capture wasn’t going to end as nicely as that one had, Nick was sure of that much.

“Talk about what?” Seiji asked icily.

“Come on, this isn’t working. Williams has noticed that something’s up, it’s as much your fault as mine we got held back today.”

“I’ve got homework and I actually plan on doing it. Move.”

“I told you, I _actually_ do my homework too, asshole. But—,”

“And I told you I don’t really pay attention _or_ care. Move.”

“I don’t get it, you were fine last week,” Nick rubbed a frustrated hand through his hair. He’d thought that fencing was safe from whatever was or wasn’t going on between them. Apparently, he’d made some assumptions and spoken too soon. “But you’ve gotten agitated every time we’ve fenced this week and I feel like we should probably talk about it.”

“When have I ever talked to you about my fencing?” Seiji snapped it out before he’d fully thought that through. Nick raised his eyebrows. Seiji lowered his. Nick sighed.

“I’m just saying, it’s not like you to fence so emotionally.”

“I’m not fencing emotionally.” Seiji’s lips tugged into a frown, acknowledging that he wasn’t being very convincing. “I’m exhausted.”

“Oh yeah? What’s keeping you up these days?”

“I could ask you the same thing but I already know the answer.”

“I thought you didn’t pay attention to what I did.”

“You and that boy—,”

“Tristin.”

“You’re so noisy about everything, I can hear you returning all the way down the hall.”

“Is this,” Nick started hesitantly, quietly, speaking to his shoes. Then, before he lost his nerve, “Is this about Tristin?” Seiji’s look was so scathing that Nick wished he’d lost his nerve and saved himself the embarrassment. “Morgan, then?”

“What do I care about Morgan? He’s one boy in a line of boys just like him.”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“It’s true. Now will you move?”

“We still haven’t really talked.”

Seiji took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly, like Nick was really trying his patience today. When he looked at Nick again, his expression was hardened with resolve.

“We’re done, Nicholas. That’s not changing—,”

“I know, I didn’t think it was—,”

“_And_ you need to stop acting like it might. We don’t talk. We never did before and I don’t know why you think we would now.”

“Because you’ve been fencing me like you’re pissed ever since Saturday. I’m sorry I ran into you if that’s what you’re pissed about.”

“It’s poor conduct to play around with the equipment just because Coach Williams isn’t around to babysit you, and your careless blundering only proves all the more that you’re an ill-suited teacher.”

“Fine, I won’t do it again.” Nick didn’t specify what ‘it’ was because he wasn’t sure which part Seiji took issue with. He’d thought it might have been Tristin in general. Some sort of jealousy or something, but Seiji had said it himself; he’d gone through a whole line of boys and none of them meant a thing to him. Nick was new to this but Seiji was a seasoned veteran and that had put him at a disadvantage. “I’ll fuck off and leave you alone but figure out why you’re mad at me because I miss actually fencing you.”

* * *

“You and Seiji have fun staying back for get-along lessons?” Eugene asked, breaking off of a group of guys Nick couldn’t place. He had too many friends to keep track of.

“Aren’t you busy?” Nick asked, nodding over at them.

“Never too busy to harass you, my friend,” Eugene didn’t look like he planned to rejoin the others, walking instead with Nick. “Williams will seriously stick you two in couples counseling if you don’t get it together.”

“I’ve got nothing to get together,” Nick groused. “If you hadn’t noticed, Seiji’s the one being difficult.”

“Bet it’s because you’ve been flirting with—Tristin!”

“I know you think you have us all figured out but Seiji and I aren’t—,”

“No, look, there’s your guy. Let’s go say hi.” Eugene turned Nick toward a group of boys that Nick _did_ recognize. Tristin and some of his friends. They were loitering near the entrance gate and Tristin was waving enthusiastically. If Eugene hadn’t been around harassing him, Nick would have missed the greeting completely and continued on his way to his room.

“Hey guys,” Tristin said when they came over. “We were about to go out.” The invitation to join was evident even though the words weren’t explicitly offered. And Nick and Eugene’s acceptance of the invitation was equally evident and non-explicit.

Tristin’s friends weren’t any faster than he was so they didn’t take off right away. There was no telling how long this lot had already been standing about at the gate but their new arrivals didn’t speed them any. Tristin did a quick rundown of introductions. Nick appreciated it since he could use the review. There was a boy right by Tristin that he didn’t recognize and, when the introductions came around to him, Tristin shot Nick a glance that was strangely hesitant coming from him.

“And this is my friend from back home,” he said, which explained why Nick hadn’t met him before. “Morgan.”

“And I’m Eugene,” Eugene told the group, completely unaware of Nick’s sharpened attention. He was aware of his rudeness, however, and elbowed Nick in the ribs.

“I’m Nick,” he said belatedly, holding out a hand to Morgan, trying to cover the flash of irrational anger he’d had at Morgan’s name. He smiled as he shook Morgan’s hand, taking stock of how soft it was, how fine-boned it felt. He was attractive, too, now that Nick got a proper look at him. Probably, he was a good kisser. It made Nick stupidly, senselessly angry to imagine Seiji kissing this boy. Especially knowing that Seiji _had_ actually kissed this particular boy. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Nick couldn’t shake the judgment of Morgan he’d made almost two weeks ago. He didn’t know the full story but he couldn’t help being on Seiji’s side, couldn’t help but feel that Morgan had unfairly judged Seiji and misrepresented him to Tristin. He and Seiji might be done and that might not be changing but Morgan still rubbed Nick the wrong way.

“So, Morgan, is this your first visit to Kings Row?” Eugene asked, starting conversation again. Nick was interested in the answer, curious if Seiji’s summer fling had overlapped into the school year at all. But he didn’t hear it because he got distracted with a figure on the same path he’d recently abandoned. Seiji. Nick had stormed from the gym after not talking to Seiji. It looked like Seiji had dawdled in his own exit.

Nick wasn’t the only one eyeing the approaching figure, he felt Morgan shift closer to him, trying to get a better view of Seiji. Nick shifted too, casually pressing Morgan back in place. Was he here hoping to get back with Seiji? It was a fruitless effort if that was his goal, Seiji wouldn’t go for it. Would he?

“Should we get going?” One of the guys asked, earning a murmur of assent from the rest of them.

Seiji was nearer now. Near enough to see his face, but Nick hadn’t needed to see it to read his mood. Whatever he said about Morgan, Seiji wasn’t happy to see him again.

“Shit,” Nick heard himself saying, already executing a half-formed plan. “I just remembered a huge paper I have due tomorrow. I’ll catch you guys next time.” And, before anyone could even respond to his hasty excuse, Nick slipped away from the cluster.

By the time he was back on track to the dorms, Seiji had caught up. Nick’s pace naturally matched Seiji’s. They didn’t talk. Nick didn’t even try. But he felt relieved to be walking with Seiji instead of hanging out with Morgan. It wasn’t too huge a stretch of the imagination to think that Seiji was also somewhat pleased with Nick’s decision. Or maybe Nick was reading too much into the lack of aggression he received for daring to quietly walk next to Seiji.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I can't believe I haven't updated this since last decade! I'm so sorry guys, time just got away from me!!  
<strike>no, I will not stop making terrible jokes and you can't make me stop either <3</strike>

“How’d your paper go?” Eugene asked, sneaking up behind Nick in the lunch line. “The one that was due today?”

“It was great.”

“It looked like you were really anxious to do that paper if you know what I mean.”

“Funny.”

“You think? I’m not sure it’s obvious enough that the paper is just a thin metaphor for Seiji. My other idea was to suggest it was on human relations, do you think that would have been better?”

“No.”

“Then I made the right choice, glad to hear you got the joke.”

“Was Tristin mad?” Nick asked, ignoring most of what Eugene had said. Correcting him didn’t seem worth the effort today. “He wasn’t in class.”

“Juggling two boys at once is a dangerous game, my man.”

“And you’re an expert on it?”

“Nope, I’m too smart for that. But I don’t think Tristin was mad, maybe a little disappointed you ducked out, that’s all. You weren’t real subtle.”

“I know,” Nick grimaced. His exit had been anything but graceful. “But I—,”

“I know,” Eugene said. Nick didn’t think he did, but then he added, “Morgan.”

“What do you—?”

“Eugene! Broski, you hanging with us or what?” One of Eugene’s numerous friends called, materializing next to them.

“Yeah, man, I’m coming. Nick, you’re not doing any papers tonight, are you? You should—,” Eugene wasn’t given the chance to say what Nick should do because his friend tackled him.

“Come on, Labao! Let’s go, we won’t have time to get to Alberto’s and back.”

With a shrug and a peace sign to Nick, Eugene disappeared with his buddy.

What did Eugene know about Morgan? Nick stared after him for so long wondering about it that he ended up spacing out and getting bumped by a burly senior for blocking the way. Kickstarted into motion, Nick scanned the cafeteria for the tall silhouette of Dante Rossi. It wasn’t hard to find and Nick made for his table. Soon, two cheerful pigtails were visible on his other side.

“Mind if I join you?” Nick asked, already setting down his tray, knowing Bobby would tell him not to be silly and Dante would nod his assent. Nick didn’t usually like to join the pair, he always felt like he was interrupting them when he did. But he didn’t feel like stewing with his thoughts today and Tristin wasn’t here. And Eugene had made it worse and then run off with friends. So. Bobby was his savior, even if Nick felt like a third wheel.

“Nicholas!” Bobby’s smile was so wide it made Nick feel like a third wheel that was wanted, at least. “I’m so happy you’re here! I wanted to ask if you were free tonight? Because my baking class is having an event again and I’d love it if you could come!”

“Count me in,” Nick had to smile back at Bobby’s excitement, happy he was actually able to go this time. Even if he was only free because he couldn’t be doing any surly but beautiful papers tonight.

* * *

“Eugene’s coming too?” Nick asked, surprised to see his teammate waving at them, already sitting cheerily outside the building Bobby’s classes were in.

“Duh,” Bobby swatted Nick’s arm. “He’s our baking buddy.”

“His Eton mess was the best in the class,” Dante added, Bobby nodding solemnly in agreement as though that were a very important and weighty title.

“Did I hear one of you fuckers say _Eton mess? _Stupidest damn thing I’ve ever made. I hope whatever we make tonight is something I might actually want to eat again.”

“You’ll like it,” Bobby trilled, leading the charge into the building. “It was so hard keeping it a secret but I’m so excited!”

Bobby took them to a cooking station with a tubby little machine on the counter that Nick couldn’t discern the use of.

“Ice cream?” Dante asked. Obviously, the tubby machine meant something more to him than it did to Nick.

“Wait,” Nick said, processing what Dante had said. “Ice cream? We’re _making_ ice cream?”

“Ice cream’s pretty chill,” Eugene nodded approvingly at their little ice cream maker.

“We’re making sundaes from scratch,” Bobby practically exploded. “Every component will be handmade, won’t that be fun? I’m going to make strawberry ice cream, I already decided. What flavor do you guys think you’ll do? We could share, I’m great at sharing! I watched about forty YouTube tutorials after I found out we were doing ice cream and—,” Bobby could have gone on but he fell silent when the teacher lady called for their attention.

Nick got lost pretty early on but it was hardly his fault. There was a lot going on.

“Wait, isn’t she gonna tell us how to make chocolate?” Nick whispered to Eugene after Mrs. Emily demonstrated how to make ice cream. “I want chocolate ice cream for my sundae.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen,” Eugene shushed him.

The brownies were chocolate, at least. And the fudge sauce. But Nick wanted a triple attack—chocolate from every corner of the fancy cups Mrs. Emily was putting her sundae together in.

“You don’t have to use every part I’ve taught you,” she said, artfully finishing her dessert with sprinkles. “In fact, I suggest that you focus on the ice cream and pick one or two other things you’d like to try if you have the time. I’ll be walking around to offer advice and answer questions as always. Have fun baking!”

“I want to eat all of it,” Nick said at once. All the smells had him hungry. “And I’m going to figure out how to make chocolate ice cream.”

“Overachiever,” Eugene taunted.

“Bobby’s making strawberry and that sounds even harder than chocolate. I bet Dante’s gonna take Bobby up on his offer to share, too, so it’s just you that’s boring and sticking with vanilla.”

“Boring? Is that a challenge?”

“Just an observation that you’re a basic bitch,” Nick told him innocently. Eugene considered for a moment.

“Fine, I’ll help you figure out your chocolate ice cream and then you’ll have to eat your words.”

“I’ll just eat the ice cream, thanks,” Nick grinned. “I want brownies, too. And fudge sauce.”

“We’ll need whipped cream to balance out all the chocolate,” Eugene said, rolling up his sleeves.

“I didn’t know you liked baking so much.”

“Eugene, Dante, and I were paired in Foods back in freshman year,” Bobby chirped. “He’s always pretended he doesn’t like baking but he secretly does.”

“False,” Eugene snapped a finger at Bobby. “I _don’t _like baking, I like cooking. There’s a difference.”

“But you’re still here,” Bobby pointed out, brushing Eugene’s accusing finger away.

“Damn, true that. Alright, I prefer cooking, then.”

“Dante too,” Bobby shook his head. “You guys are so wrong. Anyway, Dante and I will take the ice cream station first, you guys can go make those brownies while you wait your turn.”

“Good plan. Let’s get to it.”

Nick followed Eugene. He seemed like he knew what he was doing, which was why Nick had recruited him for his chocolate ice cream expedition. The room was a mess of conversation and mixers of all sorts but it wasn’t hard to hear Eugene when he spoke again. Likely because Nick had been waiting to hear it since the moment he’d seen Eugene waiting for them.

“So, Morgan has an interesting history.”

Nick’s grip tightened around the egg he’d just plucked from the carton. “I guess,” he said. Eugene held out his hand for the egg, obviously not trusting Nick with it. Nick handed it over, knowing Eugene was right not to trust him with it.

“No wonder you split.”

“Are you going to tell me what you found out or not?”

“I didn’t get it at first,” Eugene wasn’t in any hurry to explain. He was probably having fun drawing it out. “Morgan’s stories about his stud weren’t anything special until I noticed the way Tristin was all on edge, kinda looking around shiftily. Then I remembered the way you acted like a dolt before bolting off. I take it you and Tristin have gotten into it over Seiji? Seiji and Morgan, more specifically?”

“You’re a natural Sherlock Holmes, stop showing off. Tristin might have mentioned something about Morgan’s stud and I might not have liked what I heard but I wouldn’t say we _got into it._ So what did Morgan have to say?”

“A whole lot. It was a tale of love and heartbreak and betrayal and it was _a lot_ more interesting when I realized it was starring none other than our pal Seiji. He’s a bit of a user, Morgan is. Dunno why Tristin’s friends with him but who am I to judge other people’s personal business?”

“You’re always judging my personal business.”

“Free entertainment, what can I say? And how mushy do we want these brownies?”

“Extra mushy and extremely chocolatey. You didn’t like Morgan either?”

“Nope,” Eugene grinned, “I think Tristin knew his stories wouldn’t gain Morgan any cred with me, he kept trying to change the topic. But Morgan wanted to brag.”

That made Nick prickle. _Bragging_. Even still, months after they had to have ended whatever they’d had over the summer.

“You should’ve heard him, Nick. I think you might have punched him and I’d have kinda liked to see that. He didn’t name drop, but I’m pretty fucking sure everyone got the message, all the others were impressed at Morgan for snagging Seiji, you know how he is. But the way Morgan talked about him, you’d think he was some tortured, misunderstood soul with a buried heart of gold. And before you go correcting me about Seiji’s heart being gold—,”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You were thinking of it.”

“Was not. And these need more chocolate.”

“Woah, that’s a lotta chocolate, bro.”

“I told you I wanted extreme chocolate.”

“Uh-huh. Look, I’m not saying Seiji doesn’t have a good heart so don’t get defensive—,”

“I’m not.”

“I think the chocolate is a coping mechanism. Now shut up or I’m not going to share the gossip I collected special just for you.” Eugene paused, daring Nick to protest. But he wanted to know, so he shut his mouth, put down his bowl of melted chocolate, and turned the mixer on low. “Like I was saying, Morgan told us about his tall and coldly handsome summer lover, making sure we all knew how mean he was outwardly but how Morgan was the only one he was gentle with—I’m not gonna go into that, but it was like listening to his wet dream based off, like, _Seiji Katayama_, big shot fencer, you know what I mean? Which was weird because I didn’t think he was into fencing but I guess rich, handsome, and successful can make anyone interested in anything.”

“I bet he was bragging everywhere he could the entire time they were together.” Saying out loud that they’d been together left Nick in a bad mood but he’d already poured all their chocolate into the batter, and it looked about done anyway.

“Probably.”

“Tristin made it sound like Morgan and Seiji didn’t mesh all that well when he was talking to me.”

“Morgan made it sound like smooth sailing. He had all sorts of stories that were gag-worthy about how he’d softened Seiji’s cold heart and stuff. I thought you might find it interesting, though, why they broke up.”

“They were dating?” Nick asked quickly, unmeaning to be so obvious in his interest. But his interest in Seiji had been obvious to Eugene for too long to pretend they didn’t both know it. Eugene gave him a pitying look.

“According to Morgan, yeah.”

“Why’d they end it?” Nick couldn’t imagine Seiji dating. He’d known, of course, that Seiji had experience. But he’d only thought about the physical aspect of that. Dating? It had never occurred to him and he didn’t like that Morgan had had that with Seiji. The idea of them kissing had been bad enough already.

“Jesse Coste.”

Nick nearly dropped the dishes he’d been in the middle of clearing. “Jesse Coste? The Jesse Coste that Seiji’s obsessed with? The one that beat him at Nationals?”

“The one and only. And Morgan didn’t like that fun little fixation of Seiji’s any more than you do. I read between the lines for their break up, but it seems to me like Jesse showed up at some local competition Morgan was supporting Seiji at, Seiji got riled up over him, Morgan got jealous, Morgan insisted on knowing what his deal was with Jesse, gave Seiji some sort of ultimatum and—,”

“Seiji dumped him,” Nick finished. “Morgan wasn’t worth it to him. Especially if things weren’t as smooth sailing as Morgan said.”

“And I somehow doubt they were, at least half the stuff he said about Seiji was made up. I might not be best friends with him but I do know Seiji.”

“And Morgan doesn’t,” Nick took the brownie pan Eugene had just finished filling, picked it up, and dropped it back down with some care. To distribute the batter and get out the air bubbles, in part. In larger part, because he was mad and wanted to slam something. “Morgan didn’t even _want_ to know Seiji,” he scathed under his breath.

Nick had been right. In fact, he’d been _so_ right that it made him a little mad Tristin hadn’t seen it. Nick had given Morgan some credit in his first assessment of him, back in the library. At the time, Nick had assumed Morgan had been stupid about his expectations and handled it poorly. Now, though, it sounded to him like Morgan had purposefully dressed Seiji up as something he wasn’t to make for a better story.

“And _then_ this joker goes on about how he poured so much into Seiji but how, ultimately, he’s come to see that it wasn’t so bad because, and I quote, _I don’t want another man’s left-overs—_shit, careful! You’re going to spill the fucking brownies!” Eugene grabbed the pan from where Nick had—quite literally and none to gently—dropped the brownies from higher than they were meant to be dropped. But Nick didn’t care about any of that just now.

“You don’t think he _said_ that, do you? To Seiji?”

“No clue. He might’ve. You okay, man?”

“Fine,” Nick said. But he wasn’t.


	19. Chapter 19

“No offense, but I’m not convinced you’re fine,” Eugene said, side-eyeing the hell out of Nick as he slid the brownies in the oven like he expected Nick to charge for them and slam dunk the pan into the trash.

“I deserved it.” The thought slipped out before he could stop it.

“Deserved what?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s just bake. Fudge sauce while the brownies bake, do you think?”

“Sure, I guess,” Eugene agreed slowly.

Nick followed Eugene’s instructions but all he could think about was how he’d actually deserved to be dumped—as much as you _could _be dumped without dating. He’d thought he’d escaped _that_ duel with Seiji unscathed but it was back to haunt him. Fuck, what were the odds? Two boys in a row calling him Jesse Coste’s left-overs, that had to piss Seiji off. Hurt him, even.

These past two weeks, Nick had been confused and even mad over the sudden and unwarranted ending to their arrangement, but it was even more of a miracle than he’d understood they’d made it so long after Nick’s scummy win. Talking about Morgan must have drudged it all back up for Seiji. It was understandable that he’d reacted poorly to Nick making a dick of himself by saying Morgan was wrong about Seiji when Nick had said the exact same thing.

“It’s sweet you’re so upset over Seiji’s honor,” Eugene told Nick, handing him the wooden spoon and indicating he should stir. Nick waited.

“Wait, that was it?” He asked. “There’s not a punchline?”

“Nope, not this time.”

“Huh.”

“I can be nice, you ungrateful little shit.”

Nick laughed. “Sorry for insulting _your _honor.”

“You should be. But seriously, Seiji can handle himself and it doesn’t do anyone any good to get in a funk over it right now. Lighten up and have some fun.”

Nick shrugged, concentrating hard on his stirring. He didn’t feel like lightening up. But there wasn’t much he could do. Not about any of it. Punching Morgan would feel good but he was trying to grow out of starting fistfights just because he was mad. And Tristin would take Morgan’s side, which would lose Nick a friend and gain him nothing but a bit of satisfaction. As for Seiji…he’d already said all there was to say. Adding to it now wouldn’t help or change anything.

_At least now I know,_ part of him whispered. At least he could understand why things had ended the way they had. Closure, that’s what this was called. Maybe the closure would make it easier to move on. Right now, it just made him achy.

“My sundae’s gonna be best in the class,” Eugene said out of nowhere. “You’re damn lucky I’m on your team because you’ll get all the same ingredients.”

“Doesn’t that mean I’ll also have the best sundae?”

“A sundae takes more than ingredients, Nicholas. It takes heart. And skill. I’ve got you beat.”

“No way,” Nick said, flicking the stirring spoon at Eugene and splattering him in chocolate. “Oh, whoops,” he couldn’t help but laugh at Eugene’s stunned disbelief. It had been an accident but laughing wasn’t helping his cause, and Eugene reached into their bag of flour, dusting Nick in a handful of it.

“Take that, foul beast,” Eugene shouted. Then, at a disapproving glare from Bobby, they both went back to baking. But not without some intermittent giggling.

“Hey, I think I’ve got an idea for the chocolate ice cream,” Eugene was already reaching for his phone. “Think you can handle the whipped cream while I check on it?”

“Fuck you, I can make whipped cream. Anyone can make that. It’s just cream that’s whipped.”

“Never mind, I’ll make the whipped cream.”

“Oh right, you’re the whipped cream master, aren’t you? I thought that froofy dessert of yours wasn’t good for anything?”

“Sugar.”

“Yes, honey?”

_“Sugar, _Nick. You need sugar to make whipped cream.”

“Oh. Yeah, I knew that.”

“And vanilla.”

“I like vanilla.”

“I’m gonna regret this,” Eugene sighed. “Don’t fuck it up. And take that sauce off the burner for now, I think it’s done.”

To be sure it was done, Nick ate a spoonful. It made him feel better so he tried to go in for another but Eugene grabbed the spoon from him and whacked his hand, scolding him for trying to double-dip. It made Nick laugh again. Eugene was right about lightening up and having fun, he decided.

* * *

Nick ambled into the room, sundae in hand. Bobby called a last goodnight from down the hall and Nick returned it with a wave out the door he didn’t check if Bobby could see before letting it close. He’d had a good night, overall. A fun night. But the door thudded closed on the hallway, on Bobby, on the _good _part of the evening. Close quarters with Seiji always felt stifling these days. They hadn’t been friends before they’d started kissing but now Nick wondered if they’d _become_ friends somewhere along the way. If they had, they weren’t anymore.

It would have been smart to consider how things would end back when they’d started out. Even enemies—friends?—with benefits couldn’t become nothing again without this awkwardness looming over them all the time. It had been so convenient during the kissing part to share a room and it was equally inconvenient now that they were to the _enemies_ part again. The _enemies who no longer have benefits_ part.

As always, Nick’s eyes skittered over to Seiji without permission. He couldn’t help it. But tonight when they found their mark, he snorted. Seiji was tucked up in the corner of his bed with his diary out again. It wasn’t an exact replica of the night that had started their relationship towards its inevitable and awkward end but it was reminiscent. Nick remembered that night in perfect detail, down to the exact way Seiji’s legs had been arranged, one crossed under him, the other dangling absently off the bed. Tonight, he was too far from the edge to let one fall off it, but he still had the other tucked under him in that familiar way of his. The clothes were wrong too—properly pajamas, not just leisurewear. Properly pajamas that were properly worn and properly boring. And, astoundingly, there was no pen in his right hand tonight.

Seiji looked up, already looking like he was done with the conversation. It was that look that made Nick actually start one.

“Rereading some old Harry Potter fantasies?”

“I thought it was Harry Styles?” Seiji asked, as surprised as Nick to find himself engaging at all.

“Potter, Styles, what’s the difference? One’s like the next, right? Completely interchangeable. Disposable.”

“Hm,” Seiji said, cocking his head at Nick meaningfully.

If they’d still been—not _together,_ but together enough for kissing—Seiji would have gone into some psychoanalysis spiel and Nick would have deserved it. He’d tasted the words on their way out and they’d been bitter.

“What’s that?”

It took Nick a moment to understand Seiji wasn’t inquiring about the bitterness in his words but about the tall and fancy glass in his hand.

“A sundae,” Nick said, shrugging. It was on the verge of becoming a melty mess, which Seiji could no doubt sense. “We made them tonight at Bobby’s baking thing, but I got carried away taste testing along the way. Don’t have any room for the finished product.”

Which was, in all honesty, a shame. It was a thing of beauty in its frilled-lipped glass and with its piled-high whipped cream adorned with cute little sprinkles. Triple fudge. Every component of it had been delicious, Nick regretted not saving room to try them when they were all together.

“Guess I should throw it out,” Nick sighed, “it’s not like it’ll keep for a midnight snack.”

“You shouldn’t waste food like that,” Seiji said, watching the ice cream with disapproval.

“Do you want it?” Nick shoved the glass in his direction and Seiji glared hard. But there wasn’t really another solution. Nick didn’t feel like eating it just to be sick all night so Seiji would feel better about not wasting food.

“Alright,” Seiji said, putting his journal face-down on the bed to keep his place—a page that Nick saw a tidy little _11-14-18 _in the corner of—and scooting forward to take the carelessly offered sundae from Nick’s hand with great care. Nick almost didn’t let his fingers release the glass in time, not quite able to believe that if he did, it wouldn’t just fall to the ground. Not able to believe at all that Seiji was going to eat his stupid triple fudge sundae with whipped cream topped in chocolate and pink heart-shaped sprinkles.

But he did. As Nick watched, Seiji navigated a neat spoonful of messy, melty ice cream to his mouth. And then, to make it even more unbelievable, he let out a sound that Nick recognized intimately. It was a tiny sound deep in his throat that meant he liked something _very_ much. Almost a sigh and so soft, so unobtrusive, Seiji rarely even noticed he’d let it out.

He must have noticed it tonight. Or maybe his blush was in reaction to Nick’s gobsmacked staring.

“I’ll be goddamned,” Nick said. “You’ve got a sweet tooth.”

“No,” Seiji objected quickly. At Nick’s laugh, he scowled deeper. “I don’t. I just can’t condone the practice of throwing out perfectly good food.”

Nick’s laugh had settled down into a smile. “I’m glad you like it. It would have been a waste to throw it away.” Though, honestly, watching Seiji eat it now, Nick thought it would have been equally as wasteful if he’d had enough room left in his stomach to eat it himself. When Seiji caught him staring again, he frowned, hands stiffening—locking into place, frozen and stubborn. Nick could tell that he wouldn’t eat another bite while Nick stood here watching him. “Eat that before it melts all over your sexual fantasies,” he said over a shoulder, already pushing aside the duck curtain to get to his bed.

“It’s a record of all my matches,” Seiji said, stopping Nick in his tracks. “My diary. Journal. I write down every match I’ve fenced. Not practice bouts—not usually. The important ones. The ones that decide things.”

The clipped and halting way Seiji pushed through his explanation was another layer to the strange offering he had just made. It was infinitely clear that he’d never explained his journal’s significance to anyone before. And it was clear, too, that explaining it to Nick wasn’t something that came easy to him. But he’d pushed through his discomfort, giving Nick this little piece of himself. If it was in exchange for the sundae, Seiji must love them more than Nick had thought.


	20. Chapter 20

It made Nick smile to see the fancy glass on his bathroom counter when he got ready for afternoon fencing the next day. Seiji had gone and fucking cleaned it and now it was sparkling and pristine and left out for Nick. He didn’t take it, liking the idea of it sitting here as a reminder better than anything else he could do with it.

Tristin didn’t appear the way he had last Saturday practice. Nick noticed his absence and wondered again where he’d been the day before. But ditching school because he was mad at Nick for being kinda rude to his friend from back home didn’t make much sense. Didn’t sound like Tristin either. He had a life and other things to do besides come watch Nick fence every Saturday, that was all this was.

“Nicholas, Seiji,” Coach greeted them before starting business for the day. “How are we feeling?” This was because of the recent and unproductive aggression that had followed them onto the strip. Nick snuck a glance at Seiji. He didn’t seem as on-edge as he’d been the majority of the week. It was possible that he’d softened a little towards Nick last night. It was also possible that Nick was just seeing what he wanted to.

“Good, Coach. Ready to fence,” Nick said.

“Seconded,” Seiji agreed. Small and stupid as it was, the tiny show of tolerance set Nick smiling again.

“Glad to hear it, boys. Let’s see it, too, shall we?”

They did. Nick even felt it. The energy and flow of their matches was back to normal. Nick lost every single one but he felt like he’d won something more important. He was pretty sure now that he’d been friends with Seiji. During their stint as enemies with benefits, they’d made their way into _friends_ with benefits. That’s why it had hurt when it had ended. Nick hadn’t just lost the kissing, he’d lost _Seiji_, too. It hadn’t occurred to him that the two things weren’t inherently tied up together until he’d seen the innocuously clean sundae glass left carefully for him to find. And, if he was being honest with himself, Nick hadn’t wanted to admit that he missed Seiji. Not just kissing him but…_him._ Seiji Katayama, the boy. Seiji’s fencing was sturdy and sure and ruthless and it made Nick think he could get back at least some of what he’d lost.

After practice, Nick fell in next to Seiji.

“No extra training today?” He asked tentatively, waiting to see if Seiji would answer.

“Obviously not,” Seiji said. Another smile from Nick.

“Cool. Me either.”

“I can tell.”

“Right. Obviously.” Nick didn’t have anything more to say but Seiji didn’t try to outpace him so he let the silence carry on, content with just this.

“I noticed,” Seiji started, every bit as tentative as Nick’s attempt at conversation had been, “that you left your…preoccupation rather abruptly on Thursday. Is he mad at you? That boy?”

“Tristin?”

“I haven’t seen him since.”

“Yeah, me either,” Nick confessed. “Eugene says he’s not mad. I hope he’s not but I didn’t want to spend the evening making nice with Morgan.” And, after hearing Eugene’s recount of the evening, Nick wasn’t convinced he would have been terribly good at playing nice. Then, noticing Seiji’s deepened frown, Nick went on. “Sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought up the elephant in the room.”

“I don’t care,” Seiji said at once. “I keep telling you Morgan doesn’t mean anything to me. But I’m glad for your sake you missed out on an evening enduring his company. His stories can be tiresome.”

“I…” Nick wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. Their conversation was going so well, he didn’t want to ruin it. But, on the other hand, their conversation was going so well, maybe he could get away with it. “I heard about his stories, actually.”

“Eugene,” Seiji guessed with a sigh.

“He didn’t like Morgan any more than I do. In case you were wondering.”

“How strange. Eugene likes everyone.”

“Yeah, but he likes _us_ better. Morgan was basically talking shit on you, no way Eugene was going to like him after that.”

Seiji’s mouth softened, the tiniest smile just visible on it. “Morgan likes to talk a lot. When some of his stories first got back to me, I thought he must have been with someone else because I didn’t recognize myself in any of those rumors.”

“That just straight-up sucks. Rumors are one thing but inaccurate ones? Spread around by someone that probably should know you better than that? Sucks. I’m sorry.” Nick wanted to say more but he was careful to keep all touchy-feely sentiments to himself this time.

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.”

“Right.” Silence again. This time it felt heavy with dissatisfaction. Nick couldn’t be sure, but he thought some of it might be from Seiji. If he was super careful about it, maybe he could say a little bit more. “I, uh, I’m probably a hypocrite to say this but I think it’s pretty shitty. What he said to you. Or about you. Or both. That’s a betrayal of trust even if it didn’t mean anything to you. And—yeah, I’m sorry.”

“This doesn’t change anything,” Seiji said quickly.

“I know.”

Seiji nodded. Nick smiled. Seiji was wrong. It might not change everything Nick would have liked. But it—they—_had_ changed again. It was only two days ago when Seiji had snapped at him that they didn’t talk.

But now, Nick thought maybe they did. Maybe they could.

* * *

Nick missed kissing Seiji, but it wasn’t so bad now that they were practically friends. Friends without benefits. But better than enemies. He did still miss the kissing, though. Every time Seiji let Nick near him, there was that desire to touch, back again to try and kick up trouble. Nick wanted to kiss away that imperious posture and cool distance Seiji maintained. He never would, though. It was over and Nick couldn’t blame Seiji for that. The reasonably pleasant atmosphere in their room all weekend was enough for Nick.

Monday morning came and, same as the two previous mornings, Nick started it with a smile at the empty sundae glass in the bathroom. Seiji’s unexpected sweet tooth and the memory of him eating Nick’s sundae kept popping up in his mind. Almost as much as the other thoughts relating to Seiji did.

When lunch rolled around, Nick found himself a table and settled in, not expecting the trey that plunked down next to his. For a crazy delusional second, Nick almost thought it was Seiji. But their tentative friendship didn’t stretch that far.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Tristin asked, tucking his hair behind his ear anxiously.

“Mad at you? I thought _you_ might be mad at _me,”_ Nick told him, ready to laugh at the misunderstanding. “I haven’t seen you since I ditched.”

“I skipped out on school to spend the weekend with Morgan.” Tristin worried more with his hair. “I know you don’t like him and I’m sure Eugene told you everything Morgan said about Seiji so now you probably _super_ don’t like him. I keep telling Mo to let it go but he’s not over it yet. I swear he’s a good dude. We’ve been friends since we were kids and we’re always there for each other, you know? But I _really _don’t want his drama with Seiji to make drama with us.”

“Yeah,” Nick said after a beat. Tristin deflated in relief. “Yeah, same here.”

“Great! Can I come watch you fence again?”

“Not until Saturday or Coach will skin us both.”

“Got it, won’t show my face around those parts until Saturday. And I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go for it.”

“That history project, do you wanna partner for it?”

“That’s an option?”

“Yep, I was checking the assignment online ‘cause I missed Friday. Says it can be done in pairs or alone. Something about differentiation? Anyway, what do you say? Partners?”

“Partners,” Nick agreed. He had _not_ been looking forward to the project. Having Tristin for it would make it better. Tristin absolutely beamed.

* * *

“You good?” Nick asked, just out of a hot shower and feeling refreshed. Seiji was packing his sports bag. He paused to answer.

“Is there a reason I wouldn’t be?”

“That’s what I was trying to come up with,” Nick shrugged. “You’re going fencing.”

“Yes. I _like _fencing.”

“Me too.” Nick roughed his towel through his dripping hair before letting it fall back over his shoulders. “But when you go fencing this late, usually you’re, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” Seiji said to the towel around Nick’s shoulders. Nick expected a scolding for dripping but Seiji looked away, back to his bag.

“Really? Well, usually you’re upset at something if you go out to fence this late. To let off steam, I always assumed.”

Seiji paused in his packing again. Then, “Dmytro and I arranged to have the gym for a couple of hours tonight, that’s all.”

“Oh, good. Say hi to him for me.”

“I won’t.”

“At least you’re honest.” Seiji snapped eyes to Nick, fierce and warning. Nick winced. He thought he remembered saying that to Seiji in a different context than this one. The reference had been entirely unintentional but saying that wouldn’t make Seiji believe it. “And I’m glad nothing’s wrong,” he said in a lame attempt to glaze over his last comment.

“I don’t know why you’d pay any attention to that.” It might have been an accusation but it was directed again at Nick’s towel. He thought of assuring Seiji he’d hang it up after this but he shrugged again instead.

“Hey, _I _never claimed not to pay attention to what you do. And you always disappear to fence when you’re extra mad.”

“You’d know a thing or two about making me mad.”

“We all have our talents.”

“And I don’t blow off steam. Fencing helps me focus. Gain back control.”

Nick nodded. “That makes sense. If there’s one thing you’ve mastered control of, it’s your blade. Must make it extra frustrating when someone gets to you on the strip too. Aaand that was a boundary I just stepped over, wasn’t it? Okay, I’m shutting up.”

“What a rare treat.”

“If I wasn’t shutting up, I’d say something about how much you seem to like those.”

“Good thing you’re shutting up.” Seiji frowned down at his bag. It had been a while since Nick had gotten a good, long look at Seiji without being chased off. And Nick was terrible at shutting up.

“I like that shirt on you,” his dumb mouth spouted unnecessarily. _Damnit, Cox, that was an inside thought. _“Turtlenecks. They suit you.” That made it worse.

Seiji zipped up his bag abruptly, tossing it over his shoulder.

“I’ve got to get to Dmytro.”

“Have fun. And don’t say hi to him for me!”

The door thumped closed and Nick was left alone. If Seiji had the gym for a couple hours, that meant he had free rein of the room until pretty late. He considered inviting Bobby to hang out—they never could when Seiji was also in the room because it sent Bobby into hysterics. Then he remembered about his history project with Tristin. They hadn’t found a time to work on it and the due date was next week. The empty room made for a perfect, distraction-free study opportunity.

After hanging up his towel, Nick took his phone from the desk where it had been plugged in and texted Tristin. He got back a thumbs up and the assurance that he’d _be right there. _Nick pulled on a shirt and even sort of made his bed while he waited.

Tristin lived in Castello too, so it was only a handful of minutes before there was a knock at the door.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Tristin said the moment he was let in. “Ducks. That’s some real refined interior decorating right there.”

“Innovative, I know. This is my side,” he gestured for Tristin to sit down on the bed. He did, shrugging off his school bag and sitting down.

“How weird are you about feet?” He asked.

“What kind of weird are we talking about?”

“If I take off my shoes and sit cross-legged, are you gonna freak?”

“Thank god that’s all we’re talking about. Yeah, man, that’s fine.”

“Cool. You gonna join me or what?”

Nick realized he’d been standing around stupidly watching Tristin sit on his bed for too long, and made to join him quickly. It was just that Tristin was the only friend Nick had really had in his room. Seiji didn’t like visitors. And, other than Nick and Seiji, absolutely no one had ever been on his bed. He didn’t feel nervous, exactly, but he felt a bit of a buzz.

Tristin’s smile was wide and honest, his posture completely relaxed. But he kept playing with his hair. Nervous. And then it hit Nick that he’d intentionally invited a boy to his room with the guarantee that they would remain undisturbed for hours. Did Tristin think—? Nick looked at him again and he thought his hair was brushed with more care than usual, his jewelry a little more intentionally matchy than usual, his face slowly coloring a little redder than usual. Nick was staring again.

“Sorry,” he said. But he could say more. To Tristin, he could say more. “You look nice. I’ve never seen that earring before, have I?”

“Not unless you go to the same shops as me at the mall,” Tristin laughed at that—he and Nick might share a love of black and a penchant for ripped jeans and sneakers but the difference in their styles was so huge even those similarities didn’t seem like much overlap. “I got it over the weekend.” With Morgan. Nick didn’t like to think of Morgan right now. It made him think of Seiji.

_Go kiss some other boy…_ The dismissal still rang in Nick’s ears and, not for the first time, he wondered if kissing someone else would make him stop wanting to kiss Seiji so bad. And he’d thought before that maybe Tristin wanted to kiss _him._ There was nothing to stop Nick, no reason not to give it a try with the cute—and nice—boy in front of him.

He reached out a hand and sent the chains hanging from cuff to stud lightly clinking. “I like it,” Nick said.

Tristin didn’t answer. He leaned. Nick leaned too. And the earring jangled again as Nick brushed a hand over Tristin’s ear, into his hair that was fine and light and long. Kissing him felt good. So Nick kept doing it, brought Tristin closer, asked for a little bit more. He was given it. Tristin was as easy going in this as he was in everything, gladly allowing Nick his fill of whatever he wanted.

It was good. Really, it was. Tristin’s lips were soft, his mouth sweet and pliant, his hair silky between Nick’s fingers. And he groaned pleasantly when Nick guided him onto his back, situating himself carefully on top of him. That made Nick’s stomach react with a little lurch. He liked it. Really, he did.

Tristin laughed against his lips, snuck hands up his shirt and pulled him down even more. Nick was surprised in a good way when legs wrapped around him—_that_ was new. And, yeah, he knew what he liked. For sure now. He liked this. It didn’t feel the same as kissing Seiji had but it was still good. It could get better, too, Nick thought. In time.

Nick was so absorbed in Tristin that he didn’t hear the lock click before the door opened.


	21. Chapter 21

_“What are you doing?”_ Seiji’s voice was hard and accusatory. The accusation hit its mark and Nick felt suddenly as if he’d done something unforgivably wrong.

In a panic, Nick propelled himself off of Tristin as fast as if he’d just been told there was a fire. Nick was filled with instantaneous and intense guilt, though he couldn’t tell if it was from Seiji’s smoldering glare or from leaving Tristin to pick himself up from his sprawled position on the bed. He did so with a slow and guarded care but it wasn’t enough to keep Seiji’s ire from locking on him.

_“Out,”_ Seiji snarled. When Tristin didn’t immediately react, Seiji’s hand jerked up fast enough to make Nick’s bed rattle from his and Tristin’s matching jumps. But Seiji didn’t strike, just pointed to the door. “Get out of my room!” It was a full-on shout, Seiji’s anger hot and wild in a way Tristin must not have ever seen before because he lurched off the bed with the same urgency Nick had lurched off of him.

“Tristin—,” Nick started but was unsure how to finish. Telling him not to go seemed stupid when Seiji was glowering at him with palpable contempt. Hatred, even.

“It’s all cool,” Tristin said. “I’ll leave. See you later, Ni—,”

_“Now,”_ Seiji barked, spurring Tristin to scramble for the door without another word. Seiji practically chased him out of it, slamming the door nearly before he’d had time to clear it. And then Nick’s guilt settled on Tristin’s treatment and he shot up too, grabbing Tristin’s things.

“Real nice, Seiji,” Nick said, shouldering past him and into the hall. Seiji bared his teeth on his way by.

Tristin was just outside the door, hand sheepishly in his hair again. He smiled lopsidedly when he saw Nick, though. Maybe this was salvageable.

“Thanks,” Tristin took his bag and shoes. “Thought I was gonna have to do the walk of shame barefoot.”

“I’m sorry about that. Seiji’s just…”

“Hey, I get it,” Tristin was still smiling. “I knew it, too. Took the risk anyway, so I can’t be mad that I got burned by Seiji’s laser eyes for it.”

“I can’t convince you he’s not the worst, can I?”

“No more than I can convince you Morgan’s not half bad. We all have our vices.”

“I’m sorry, Tristin. Really fucking sorry.”

“It’s cool.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you when we both know I’m going to go back in there and calm Seiji down. When we both know he’ll always come first.”

“Yeah, it was probably a mistake,” Tristin agreed. “But don’t look so worried. I told you I knew it was a mistake too. But let’s stick to the library for our history project from now on.”

“You mean you still want to be partners?”

“Hell yeah.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

Nick felt another twinge of guilt watching Tristin walk down the hall—shoes dangling from fingers despite his voiced concern over making the walk barefoot. Tristin was entirely too forgiving. It was no wonder Morgan had latched onto him.

With a sigh, Nick turned back to his door and braced himself for Seiji’s anger. He got it. The second he was in the room, Seiji’s laser eyes hit him.

“I’d thank you not to bring your annoying little _friends_ into my room.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nick asked sharply. He might have come back in here for Seiji instead of staying with Tristin, but he could still be mad on his friend’s behalf. “I never bring people over because you’re incredibly rude and unpleasant. Why are you back here anyway?”

Seiji was already in full gear, looking out of place dressed like that here in their room, hair still perfectly arranged and not a drop of sweat on him.

“I needed something.”

“What? To harass Tristin?”

“My plastron didn’t make it into my bag, actually,” Seiji said tightly.

“And you couldn’t just borrow one? Why trek all the way across campus in your fencing gear to get yours?”

“I also forgot my shirt, something I’m sure _you_ can relate to. But you’re right, it makes more sense that I’d have come back specifically so I could see you and that boy groping.”

“His name is _Tristin_ and you know it.”

“I don’t care. And I don’t want you and _Tristin_ having sex in my room. Frankly, I would have thought that was a clear boundary, especially without consulting with me first. This isn’t a love hotel and—,”

“Shut up, would you? Did that _look_ like sex to you?”

“It looked like it wanted to be.”

“Well, it _didn’t._ And cut it with your judgment, we did worse.”

“And?” Seiji demanded.

“And what?” Nick demanded right back.

“And did you like it?”

“Did I—? Yeah, turns out I kinda like kissing. Do you want to analyze that too?”

“You’re so predictable. Can’t you even restrain yourself for a month?” Seiji said it with a superiority Nick didn’t think he deserved. Seiji had to be _worse _than Nick in this regard, what with all his _experience._

_“You’re _the one that told me to go kiss other boys.”

“I didn’t mean you should bring them back to my room and fuck them whenever I leave for an hour,” Seiji seethed. He seemed unable to stop himself from adding, “And I _especially _didn’t mean for it to be Tristin.”

“Would you drop it about that? We were _kissing _and—,” Nick’s words faltered under Seiji’s sharp, accusing glare. He felt even more strongly that he’d done something wrong and it made him angry that he felt that way. There was no reason he shouldn’t be allowed to kiss Tristin. If he wanted. “I didn’t even want anything more,” Nick grumbled, unable to shake off this weird abashment. “Kissing is one thing, but I don’t want it like that. I guess I’d kinda like it to mean something, you know? The first time…it should be special.”

“I didn’t expect that sort of sentiment from you.”

“Why not?” Nick was rankled by Seiji’s disdainful disbelief. “Just because I liked kissing you doesn’t mean I’m eager to jump down anyone’s pants that’ll let me. And, actually, you’re not the only reason we always stopped where we did. I don’t want sex just because it feels good, okay? I want it with someone—,” Nick didn’t finish, skin prickling with embarrassment.

“With someone you _love?”_ Seiji sneered. “Aren’t you the one always telling me to act my age? I somehow doubt you’ll find love in _high school.”_

“I didn’t say anything about love.” Nick deeply regretted going down this path of conversation but he’d wanted Seiji to understand. Wanted to explain himself because Seiji kept looking at him like _that _and he hated it. “I just—I want something more than casual. Someone I _could_ love, maybe.” Seiji was still unimpressed and it made Nick’s dumb mouth keep talking. “And besides, there’s more to it than that. It’s supposed to be awful the first time you do it, right? And I—I wouldn’t want to hurt you just because I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“Hurt _me?”_ Seiji asked with an incredulously raised eyebrow.

_Shit_. Had he really said that?

“It’s your fault,” Nick said, defensive and impossibly embarrassed all at once. “_You’re_ the one that started this. You’re the one who kissed me like that. And then you_ kept_ letting me kiss you like _that_.” It was his first experience with stuff like that at all. Wasn’t it natural that Seiji, then, would become the object of his wandering daydreams?

”Are you sure there isn't more to it than that? You just said you wouldn't even consider sex solely because it felt good. You said you'd need something more."

_Well, fuck._ Nick went fully red and felt only slightly better for the fact that Seiji was tinged pink.

"It's still all your fault," Nick snapped. Because it was; it had to have been all that kissing that'd changed something in him where Seiji was concerned.

"Is that your idea of a confession?" Seiji asked with a sneer.

"Looks like it, yeah.” Nick didn't offer anything more. Because he'd only known in the back of his head and he was pissed that Seiji had insisted on dragging it out into the open.

"Then why in the world were you kissing another boy _in my room?”_

"Because you weren't supposed to be here," Nick said, and then, at Seiji's unimpressed look, "Because you broke it off with me and I'm not stupid."

"Are you sure?"

"What? You think there's any chance I'd get a happily ever after with _you?"_ It had honestly never crossed his mind that such a thing might be a possibility but as Seiji's face lit up in a brilliant blush, it occurred to Nick that he might indeed be very stupid. "Really?" He asked. He couldn't help it. Seiji scowled, arms crossed, and gave a slight inclination of his head.

_Holy. _

_Fuck_.

“It was a recent development," Seiji said tersely. "I tried to cut it off before it got too far, as soon as I realized. But it had…has already gone too far."

“You’re shitting me,” Nick laughed, accidental and unstoppable. _“That’s _why you put an end to it? Because you thought it would stop your feelings?” It was funnier than it should have been given that Nick had thought something along the same lines. Without the kissing, he’d been sure the feelings would prove themselves fake. “I thought I’d figured it all out. I thought you were worried because I was like Morgan.”

“No. I was worried because you’re not like Morgan. You’re not like anyone.” Seiji shot a glare at Nick’s rumpled bed. “But it seems like anyone works for you.”

“I basically just told Tristin I shouldn’t have kissed him because he’s not _you_, stop pretending like you don’t know I chose you over him. But I wanted to stop the feelings too and you can’t get mad about that.”

“Watch me.” It was hard to say whether Seiji had said it with the intention of sounding like a brat or not. Nick smiled, wanting to kiss Seiji into something sweet and shivery the way he always did when Seiji got like this.

“Okay, but, consider this: I wanted to be able to spend time with you without almost ruining everything by kissing you on accident. And I _really_ wanted to be able to be around you without ruining it.” Nick shrugged. “And you kept saying we were over and that wasn’t changing. I thought friends was better than nothing. I don’t just _like _you, I also just plain like you.”

Seiji’s jaw relaxed. Nick hadn’t even realized he’d been clenching it, but that was the way with Seiji. You couldn’t tell where all his tensions and worries were stored until he let them out. And he let them out. As Nick watched, he let his shoulders relax too, let his stance settle more naturally. Whatever Nick had said, he’d said it right.

“I think that might be a first.” There was a lonesome quality to the simple sentence. Not pitiful—Seiji Katayama didn’t do pitiful. But he did do vulnerable and raw, in his own way. With a sureness that was something like pride, even while saying he thought Nick might be the first person to actually like him.

“No way,” Nick said adamantly. “You’re incredible, I’m not the first one to see that. You’ve said it yourself, you’re attractive and a killer fencer and—what’s that phrase? An eligible bachelor! An extremely desirable one.”

“Yes,” Seiji said shortly. “I’m self-aware enough to know that I’m attractive and talented and eligible but I’m _not _likable and I’m self-aware enough to know that too. Boys don’t like being with me for my personality.”

“Oh.”

“It won’t earn you any points to act shocked. I’ve heard dozens of complaints from you about my arrogance or negligence or particularities.”

“Sure, but—,” It wasn’t that Nick didn’t know how difficult Seiji could be to get along with but he’d stopped thinking of it as an entirely negative thing ages ago. Seiji’s sharp edges weren’t bad if you knew how to navigate them. And Nick liked that he _did _know how to navigate them, more or less. Better than most. He’d wanted to know Seiji and all his sharp edges better than anyone for weeks and weeks. “You know I like it. You know I like it no matter what you do.”

“I know what you like.” Seiji shifted slightly, tension already sneaking back in. Nick hadn’t meant to put it there but before he could try and take it away again, Seiji blurted, “And I wanted you to like more than that.”

“I do.”

“I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to want that. But…you never ask me for anything.”

“That’s bullshit,” Nick actually snorted, dozens of memories coming to mind of times he’d pushed and tested and asked Seiji for just a little bit more. Seiji shook his head, frustrated at Nick for not getting it.

“No, you don’t ask me for things I can’t give. Things I can’t be. I think you might actually understand me but I don’t think you understand how strange that is.”

Nick didn’t mention how Seiji was contradicting everything he’d said when dumping him. He thought he got it. It was the same pit Nick had fallen into of thinking the physical stuff was all there was. All the other wanted there to be.

“I understand you well enough to guess you freaked out when you realized.” That night when Seiji had ended it, he’d stormed out of the room with his sports bag in hand. “I’ve never done any of this before,” Nick said slowly, “so I don’t have a ton of experience, but it seems to me that you don’t really get to control your feelings. Or other people’s either.”

Seiji looked at him pensively and then tipped his head. “And that’s the trouble. I don’t care about Morgan as much as you seem to think I do but I remember him. And his tiresome ideas about what I should be. I ran out of patience for him.”

“But you didn’t run out of patience for me.”

“That was the first sign, I suppose. But what you said, it was true.” It was hard not to show how much Nick didn’t like this particular confession. There was only one thing Seiji could be referring to—all those nasty things Nick had flung at him to render him emotionally compromised and win a stupid, dirty match. “Not with Jesse. But with everyone I’ve actually been with. You, though, were different. You aggravate me to no ends but I’ve never felt like I ought to be something else for you. Possibly it’s because you aggravate me to no ends that I didn’t feel obligated to please you. That’s why I didn’t run out of patience for you as I did for Morgan.”

“Why, then? Why’d you end our agreement when you did? If you weren’t mad because you were reminded about Morgan, then why?”

“Are you stupid? I already told you. I tried to cut it off as soon as I realized, and you made me realize that day. Everything you said was the exact opposite of Morgan and the others and none of them had any more patience for me than I had for them. I liked not caring about them, Nicholas. I _like_ having that control. When they decided they didn’t like me, it didn’t matter. When you decide you don’t like me, I can’t do that. I can’t walk away like it’s nothing. And you’d just told that boy you didn’t like me. So I tried to walk away before it came to that.” Seiji’s eyes flitted to Nick’s bed again.

“Seiji,” Nick said, drawing his attention away from it. “I’m _not_ going to decide I don’t like you. Fucking asshole, I’ve been saying for ages that you’re amazing and incredible and the absolute best and for someone so full of yourself, I can’t believe you didn’t notice sooner that I’ve liked you almost from the start.” It wasn’t something Nick had wanted to admit to, mostly because he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself how hopelessly taken with Seiji he was but, hearing Seiji—even now, when he knew Nick liked him—saying _when you decide you don’t like me_ instead of _if_, Nick was willing to admit to just how bad he had it.

“Don’t be dramatic. You only liked kissing me.”

“Don’t be stubborn. I wanted you all to myself pretty much right away and I might be wrong but I don’t think that’s normal for friends with benefits, even if I pretended it was. And I’ve thought about you every day since then. Like, a lot. And I liked you even more when you cut it off and I couldn’t kiss you anymore. Or maybe I realized how much I’d liked you all along.”

“And Tristin? If I hadn’t walked in, what then? You said you liked kissing him. You looked like you liked kissing him.”

“Not as much as I always liked kissing you.” Nick sighed, following Seiji’s gaze back over to his bed. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t walked in.” He saw the flash of hurt in Seiji’s eyes and wished he could have given an answer that he liked better. “But I know it wouldn’t have worked. It never could have. It was like, kissing him, I wanted to like it more than I did. Dating him would have been the same and it would have fallen apart, even if we’d tried. I’d always just be thinking about you.” Nick let the pause stretch before adding, “I really like you but I understand if you need some time to forgive me for kissing someone else.”

“I had no claim on you.”

“I still shouldn’t have been—wait, _had?”_

“I’m sorry, did you want to go kiss Tristin again? Or some other boy?”

“No, I just—I didn’t think it’d be that easy.”

“What?”

“Well, it means we’re together, doesn’t it? If you’ve got a claim on me now, it implies we’re dating.”

“Unless you have an objection to that?”

“No way,” Nick was sure his smile would split his face clean in two.

“If that’s sorted,” Seiji said, striding over to his bed and picking up the bundle of white Nick had missed earlier, “I need to get back to Dmytro.”

“Wait,” Nick called and Seiji halted by the door. “You forgot something again.”

“Are you sure?” Seiji asked, checking his hands. Nick easily took the crisp white shirt and plastron. Seiji’s eyebrow rose.

“Yes.” Instead of checking to make sure both missing items had been retrieved, Nick stowed them carefully back on the bed. Turning around again, he quickly closed the gap between them, getting closer to Seiji than he’d been allowed for weeks. “You forgot this.”

Seiji turned his cheek, making Nick’s kiss land there instead of on his lips. Far from offended or discouraged, Nick chuckled softly. He’d already known his boyfriend—_his boyfriend!—_was mad. But he also knew he stood a good chance of fixing that.

“You’ve just been kissing someone else,” Seiji said distastefully, a hand planting in the center of Nick’s chest and pushing him back.

“I regret it. For a ton of reasons, I really regret it.”

“Be that as it may, you did it. And if you think you can kiss me while you taste like _him,_ you’re wrong. You’ll have to brush your teeth, at the very least.”

“Okay.”

Nick didn’t make it far at all before Seiji caught his arm.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Brushing my teeth is a small price to pay if that’s what you want me to do right now.”

“Why do you always listen to me about the most inconvenient things?”

“I just want you to be happy.” Nick plucked Seiji’s hand off his arm and kissed it. “And the only times I don’t listen to you are when you ask for something unreasonable like shutting up.”

“That’s a perfectly reasonable request.”

“What other inconvenient thing did I listen to?” Nick tried to think but he was sure the rule about hair was an important one to Seiji, and the rule about never talking about their arrangement had been too. And the time he’d accidentally pushed Seiji too far—he knew he was supposed to listen that time. Seiji turned his face from Nick and Nick suddenly remembered the hurried way Seiji would insist nothing had or would change between them. That was a boundary Nick hadn’t tested but he wondered now if he would have been able to get past it by admitting to Seiji how much he missed him or asking if there was any way to change things.

“You made it clear to that boy that you’re not interested in him?” Seiji asked, refusing to admit that he’d wanted Nick to fight more to get him back.

“I did,” Nick confirmed. “And I’ll tell him tomorrow that we’re dating if you’d like.” He almost expected Seiji to correct him and say he’d misunderstood about them dating. He didn’t. His fingers notched between Nick’s and he nodded.

“Alright.”

“I’m sorry. It was stupid of me to kiss him.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“If you do—with anyone—I’ll bite off your tongue.”

“Gruesome,” Nick said appreciatively. Inching his way back into Seiji’s personal space, he pressed his face into Seiji’s neck. “I won’t. I promise.”

“I really hate that you kissed him, Nicholas.” There was that raw quality again. Nick thought it must have been easier to admit how upset he was now that Nick couldn’t see his face. “I thought you must really like him.”

“He’s a good friend. But I like you the best.”

“Then prove it.”

“I will. I’ll keep proving it for as long as you’ll let me.”

Seiji’s hand was still caught up in Nick’s, a little unsure and a little unnatural. His posture was still stiff and unforgiving as Nick slipped an arm around his back and held him in a hug. Nick could even feel the muscles in his neck and shoulders straining, unaccustomed as ever to the quiet moments. But it was all familiar and welcome to Nick, this awkward press of bodies that Seiji had always tolerated and rarely initiated. When Seiji’s free arm came up to reciprocate the hug, Nick closed his eyes and breathed Seiji in. He wanted this with Seiji. He wanted Seiji. Closing his eyes in moments like these was the closest he’d ever gotten to letting himself believe all that wanting could possibly go somewhere.

“You look like you’re in pain,” Seiji said when Nick opened back up his eyes and reluctantly pulled his head out of the nook it’d found. “If you’re dissatisfied with the situation—,”

“No,” Nick burst out. And then he burst again but this time with laughter, the melancholy Seiji must have sensed falling away entirely. “I just forgot. I was thinking how bad I wanted to have this,” Nick squeezed his arm tighter around Seiji, “and I got so busy wanting it that I forgot I don’t have to pretend it actually means something. That we’re something more than casual.” Then he brought up their hands—Seiji’s was still too inflexible but somehow perfect anyway. Seiji frowned at the display, nonplussed. “This is the first time we’ve held hands. You’re letting me hold your hand.”

“I’ve let you do a lot more than just hold my hand,” Seiji said, unimpressed.

“But _this,” _he tapped his thumb against Seiji’s, “isn’t about the feeling good part. It’s about the _something more _part.” He let their hands drop, smiling.

“It’s only _hands, _Nicholas.” But Seiji was painted in pink again.

“I’m just happy I get to have that with you. Any of it. All of it.”

Seiji looked from Nick’s face to their hands, and his eyes lingered there. As they did, Nick could swear Seiji’s grip relaxed a tiny bit more in his. Eventually, Seiji might get better at these quiet moments. But Nick loved them just as they were, cherished the small magic in them. The closeness and sweetness and stilted hesitance of them. Of Seiji.

But Seiji’s tolerance only went so far and Nick was soon pulled against him with an urgency he’d missed. The spark in his chest when Seiji kissed him was a stronger echo of the one he’d felt all that time ago when Seiji had first demonstrated his skill to Nick. It was electric to have Seiji’s lips on his again, have his body pressed so close. And it was so much better with their hands tangled together like a promise that didn’t break even when their hands got busy doing other things. This wasn’t nothing. _They _weren’t nothing. Nick felt drunk with giddy excitement at the prospect of dating Seiji, at the very idea of—

“Wait,” Nick panted, reveling in the impatient huff this evoked from Seiji. The way he showed how much he liked something by being irritated when Nick stopped it had always been one of Nick’s favorite things.

“What?”

“Can I tell people?”

“About us?”

“If we’re boyfriends now and not just enemies with benefits…” Nick felt oddly nervous as he tried to explain. “It’s not like I want to brag or—well, you _are_ the best so maybe I want to brag a little bit, but mostly I just want to date you and I want to tell our friends and can I?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t give any unnecessary details, I promise, I just—,”

“Nicholas,” Seiji interrupted him, “you can tell whoever you want.”

“Really?”

“No, I only said that to make you shut up and get back to kissing me.” With another huff, this one, Nick thought, more fond than irritated, Seiji kissed him with soft, gentle lips, gone too soon, but not by far. _“Yes,_ really.”

Nick could have told Seiji he was wonderful again but he thought Seiji would better appreciate it if he showed him instead. He was right, Seiji let out that tiny little sound—the one that meant he liked something _very _much—when Nick gently played at a lower lip before diving into a kiss that Seiji’s mouth was already open to receive. He’d missed this so much, missed the feel of Seiji’s perfectly dangerous mouth and sharp tongue and smooth skin. Missed the precise texture of his hair and the moans a tug at the roots could summon. Missed the feel of Seiji’s sturdy and precisely wielded muscles under his palm. He got his fill of it now, making up for lost time.

“God, have I missed your ass,” Nick groaned, finding it with a hand, hauling Seiji even closer against him.

“What have I said about that sort of talk?”

“That it’s not allowed. But I’d like to petition for an exception just this once.”

Nick took Seiji’s failure to answer as a victory. He slid his hand down the curve of ass he’d just illegally complimented, rubbing against thigh, coaxing Seiji’s leg a little more around him, and an influx of bad ideas hit him. Bad ideas that included kissing the thigh his thumb was caressing gently through heavy cotton without anything in the way. Heat overtook the back of his neck and the tips of his ears as the thought settled better and progressed. These sorts of bad ideas were usually kept fuzzy and unspecific. Desperate, far-off, and misguided wants. Impossible desires that didn’t mean anything. But they did mean something and now he could admit it. Seiji wasn’t a convenient body to kiss and touch with no serious implications. Seiji was someone he could love.

Nick still pushed thoughts of thighs and Calvin Klein underwear out of his mind for now. Much as Nick would love to peel Seiji out of each and every layer of his fencing gear, he knew that was a bad idea. He stored it away for later, though.

A smaller bad idea presented itself to him and Nick stopped his work on that tender spot at Seiji’s jaw. Seiji was breathing hard, his hands tight around Nick, his posture unguarded. It never got old, seeing him like this. Feeling him like this. Nick ran hands up and down his sides, venturing a little onto his back, a little onto his chest and stomach. He couldn’t feel anything through the heavy jacket. It was too tempting an idea not to check on...

Seiji startled at the initial tug Nick gave to the zipper of his jacket. And there it was—skin. Left bare and exposed. Nick tore open the neck closure and wasted no time in fitting a hand into the opening he’d made, feeling Seiji’s hot skin and beating heart and hard nipple directly. Seiji shivered, his own teeth biting into his lip as Nick’s thumb rasped over the nipple again for good measure. There was something extra tantalizing about the bared torso under Seiji’s pristine fencing jacket, no extra layers to keep Nick from touching him. From kissing him softly along neck and collarbones and down onto beating heart.

“All this time,” Nick murmured in astonishment, “and you were like _this.”_

“What is wrong with you? You say it like there’s something scandalous about not wanting to change back into day clothes just to walk across campus and have to change again.”

“It’s sexy.” Nick didn’t elaborate any more than that. He was sure he’d get one of Seiji’s famous psychoanalyses to examine why Nick thought it was so hot to find so much skin so readily available under an outer layer of restrictive uniform—be it one for school or, better yet, fencing. Although he wasn’t sure _what_ that said about him, Nick was sure he didn’t need Seiji trying to tell him.

In order to skip any more judgment than he’d already amassed, Nick pushed aside Seiji’s jacket even more and kissed his favorite spot on Seiji’s chest—just above his heart, in his fourth, where Nick had _almost _scored a point on him back during their very first match, on the very first day they’d met. Seiji arched into the kiss, encouraging Nick to continue. He did, teasing a hickey out of Seiji’s flawless skin, which had recovered from all previous marks Nick had given it.

“It’s a little like you planned this.” Nick’s awe was in cahoots with his stupidity and his plan to avoid judgment went out the window just like that. But he couldn’t help himself—he’d never been able to. Pulling back from Seiji, Nick found him glaring in the particular way he did when trying to cover up or ignore his embarrassment.

“Will I ever be free from your delightful insights?”

“Probably not,” Nick admitted cheerfully, a hand already slipping back under the partially opened jacket to appreciate the rare opportunity Seiji had presented him with. “I’m just saying, it’s like you—,”

“Wanted you to rip open my clothing like a great oaf?”

“I was gonna say like you wanted to be touched but sure, that works too.” Nick traced a circle over the approximate spot of the hickey, hidden now behind stiff white fabric, but not safe from Nick’s touch.

“You think,” Seiji started, voice carefully kept even. Nick’s fingers danced to a new target, the circles he drew now almost too soft—he knew that drove Seiji mad. A twitch and a sigh proved that Seiji was already brimming with anticipation. “You think,” he said again, firm and even and wonderfully stubborn. “That I intentionally left my gear here just so I could come back and tempt you? As if you’d even have any way of knowing.”

“Sure,” Nick agreed, fingers unrelenting and nimble against Seiji’s chest.

“I didn’t want to wrinkle my turtleneck,” Seiji insisted stoically.

“The pretty one? Yeah, that would’ve been a shame.”

“I wasn’t planning to talk to you at all.”

“I believe it.”

“I was going to ignore you until it went away. But I couldn’t stand it—you and that boy. I had to—,” Seiji shifted, eyes fluttering a moment in distraction, the build up of soft touches finally getting to him, “—to do _something._ I don’t know what. Yell, probably. Throw that infuriating sundae glass at you. I don’t know.” Seiji’s voice was getting low and breathy, losing its composure. “But this was the definition of an accident…” Trailing off, Seiji inhaled deeply, slowly. Then he sank back against the door, dragging Nick with him, a hand at the back of his neck to make absolute sure he came along.

“A happy accident, I hope,” Nick said, hardly paying attention as the words left his mouth. But Seiji always listened, even when he said he didn’t. He always heard. So he nodded, eyes opening to lock on Nick’s as fingers clasped around Nick's wrist, repositioning the hand stationed under the jacket.

“Yes,” Seiji answered. Already, that was enough. More than enough. But Seiji didn’t do things by halves. “And now that we’re here, I want you to touch me.”

With such a straightforward and honest request, Nick couldn’t deny him. If anything, he was a little overenthusiastic as he crushed against Seiji, mouth crashing into mouth in the sort of thorough and intense kisses that he knew would satisfy Seiji, nothing about his touches light and teasing anymore.

With a sharp gasp, Seiji jerked away—tried to jerk away, there wasn’t anywhere left for him to retreat. Nick was off him faster even than he’d sprung off of Tristin, recognizing that something was wrong and desperately not wanting to make it _more_ wrong. Sure enough, Seiji’s face was a worrying one.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked, resisting an absurd and unhelpful urge to pat Seiji down as if for injury.

“Dmytro.” Middle-aged coach or not, the name of another man on his boyfriend’s lips made Nick’s eyebrows pull down at once. What was Seiji thinking of Dmytro for in the middle of kissing _him?_ “I’m supposed to be fencing right now,” Seiji continued, horrified. “I was only grabbing my things, I didn’t plan to—oh god, it’s been ages.”

Laughter exploded from Nick in a quick burst that he swallowed even quicker, sure Seiji wouldn’t appreciate being laughed at. But Nick was relieved he was fine, that nothing was actually wrong, that Nick hadn’t asked for too much, too fast. Seiji was only worried about fencing. Typical.

“You look really cute right now,” Nick offered instead of any sort of helpful suggestion or consolation. “All shocked and worried. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you before, but—,”

“Would you shut up?”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Nick slunk forward, reaching a hand to run down Seiji’s arm and tangle their fingers again. “It’s been so long there’s no point worrying about it now. And a little more time won’t make a difference, right?”

Seiji looked even more horrified than ever.

“I don’t have the words necessary to describe what you are and I’m at least passably proficient in three languages.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t.”

“I know, I know, my work ethic is abysmal and this is why I’m just a deadweight fencer with potential instead of someone you’d even consider as your rival,” Nick said it all with a smile, a self-deprecating joke he only sometimes believed. And he was too happy now to even worry about if he believed it or not. Seiji didn’t smile. He pursed his lips.

“I wish you wouldn’t say that. I don’t ever know what to do with you when you get like that.”

“I know,” Nick laughed, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t serious.”

“But I am. You’re very clearly _not_ deadweight. You made it onto the team. As a _freshman._ With much less training than a good deal of the boys you beat to earn your spot. That’s not just potential, Nicholas, that’s what potential turns into, and it’s only the start. I don’t understand why you’re so convinced that that isn’t enough for now.”

The gears in Nick’s brain had screeched to a halt. As had the air in his lungs and the beat of his heart. For once, his mouth opened but nothing came out. He couldn’t believe that he’d just heard Seiji say that he wasn’t just a nobody fencer that had been told he had potential once. Couldn’t believe that he’d just seen Seiji’s eyes, fierce and determined and sincere while he said it. Couldn’t believe that he could feel how much Seiji meant it by the tight grip around his hand.

“Shit,” Nick said, eyes going as wide as Seiji’s had when he’d remembered where he was supposed to be. “You’ve been saying that for ages, haven’t you?” Over and over again, Nick’s troubles had been dismissed by Seiji. _You made the team._ But Nick had taken it all wrong. It wasn’t a dismissal at all coming from Seiji—not in the way Nick had thought. Not _you should be happy with good enough_ but _you’ve already come this far, obviously you can go further._

At Nick’s continued stare, Seiji flushed and yanked his hand away, crossing his arms and using that extra inch he had on Nick to scowl down his nose at him.

“Your technique’s still a mess,” he informed Nick curtly. It didn’t sting at all. “And you’ve got a lot of work to do to get where you want, and I mean _a lot—!”_

Seiji’s mouth was preoccupied with other things before he could finish his criticisms. There was a warmth all through Nick, a happiness too big to stay all emotion, showing itself in a flipping heart and tightening arms around a familiar waste and a lightness in all his limbs. If Seiji wasn’t there to ground him, he might have floated away, he felt so light and happy.

Seiji thought he was enough. Seiji thought he stood a chance at becoming a great fencer. And Seiji would know. Seiji knew fencing—he knew Nick too. And so much of Nick _was_ fencing, so much of what he wanted to be was tied up in it. He was as flawed a person as he was a fencer and Seiji could see all of it, better than anyone. And he thought Nick was enough.

Arms slipped around Nick—Seiji surrendering to his bad ideas and bad influence. Nick could practically taste the small smile and exasperated sigh as Seiji gave into him.

“I already regret dating you,” Seiji murmured.

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I am that I like you too much for it to matter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is why Dmytro hates nick :) I just need you all to imagine Seiji returning to the gym like 40 minutes after this, looking rumpled and kissed as hell, resolutely acting as if nothing happened or that he was missing for so long  
<strike>Dmytro having a low key crisis because oh my god it's happening, Seiji’s going through his rebellious phase</strike>
> 
> this probably could have been broken up into two chapters but it felt like it all belonged together. Also i wanted to finish off on a 14th since we started on a 14th, you feel me? and sitting on the last chapter for a month just to sate my thirst for that satisfying parallelism didn’t seem nice
> 
> PHEW okay now onto the real end note where I thank you guys all for reading and talking to me (and letting me talk back at you<3). Truly, this was a self-indulgent smooch fest if ever there was one, thank you so very much for deciding to board (and deciding against jumping out the windows along the way). I know I say this all the damn time but I wasn’t expecting this to get so long. It started out its existence in my (ironically named) drabbles file, not really meant to see the light of day. And yet. Here we are. Thank you for showing it so much love 💜
> 
> And this concludes SMOOCH FEST 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO


End file.
